


6 a.m.

by windowtoad



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 102,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windowtoad/pseuds/windowtoad
Summary: In which Tracer sometimes contemplates the idea of eternal life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU in which Tracer's time is eternally stuck on the moment of the Slipstream crash, essentially making her immortal.  
> Written to be consumed in little bits over tea - the same way a sweet little grandmother would go about consuming a bar of chocolate.  
> But if you relate more to the grandma who inhales the entire bar in one foul swoop with zero regret, that is also encouraged.  
> Most of this fic was written shortly after the Ana reveal (back in summer), therefore lots of details don't match up with canon (I liked the concepts of 76 being blind without the visor, noone being aware of Reaper's identity, the chronal accelerator being more strictly attached to Tracer, and so on. It is an AU of sorts, after all. Not designed to predict canon in any way). No Emily, no Sombra, no Torbjorn's wife, no Orisa, sadly.

It's six a.m.

The sun is so bright it's blaring right trough the flimsy curtains in your room.

It's a perfect day to change the world as any!

You will yourself out of bed and go about your morning routine. Stretch, shower, brush your teeth. You pause at the mirror and take a moment to look at yourself.

Still the same as ever. Brown hair sticking up in uneven strands (you haven't gotten to styling it yet. Not that you're very meticulous about that.), a generous dusting of freckles covering your face. Brown eyes stare right back at you, boring straight into your soul.

You flash yourself a big ol' smile.

You pause before going back to your morning routine, looking up at nowhere in particular. You ready the cheeriest voice you can muster up.

"Good morning, Athena!" you call out.

"Good morning, Tracer." a voice responds.

You finish up your morning routine, deliberately skip making the bed (it matches the chaos in the room much better this way. That's the only reason, surely.) and go on to wake the others.

You speed through the hallways, yelling out the most cheerful greetings you can muster. You've got to get everyone's spirits up right from the start of the day, after all.

The base has admittedly seen better days, but you pay the condition of it no mind as you skip through the halls. It's no wonder - the base has only been in use since the recall, which was a couple weeks ago, and there's really not enough time to worry about dust. You can appreciate it for what it is. It forms a cool cloud behind you as you speed around the building which puts it in your good book.

Besides, you're sure no amount of dust could ruin your mood today. As old members of Overwatch slowly trickle into the base (there's more of you here now than you can count on one hand! Still less than two full hands but you'll get there, you're sure.), seeing old friend after friend lifts your spirits like nothing else.

And today is the day Genji comes back.

It's been years since you last saw the guy. Even though you never got to know him too well during his time in Overwatch before, you are filled with a sort of excitement about seeing him again.

You let this glee shine through as you yell out morning greetings, making sure to pause at doors of notable over-sleepers (you spend a good five minutes yelling at Torbjörn's door before a muffled "Alright already!" and the loud clang of something hitting the doorway assures you he's up.).

You stop in your tracks when you reach Winston's door. When speaking of oversleepers, Winston's the worst of them all (the recalled Overwatch might as well be known as "Oversleepwatch" with him in charge). He sleeps like a log and no amount of screeching at the door will snap him into consciousness. A feature which has come in handy before, to be fair. He's the only one that manages to get a good amount of rest on even the noisiest of plane rides, while everyone looks on in pure jealousy. But in the context of waking up in the morning, it's a real pain in the neck.

You push the door open and peer inside, expecting to see the big guy snoozing away face down in a pile of scientific papers (the contents of which you spare yourself from trying to understand) and various reports - he likes to go trough these late into the night, which often makes him even more difficult to wake.

What you don't expect is seeing him up, awake, and right up in your face, obviously on his way out of the room.

Your eyebrows shoot up.

"Good morning, love! Odd seeing you up this early."

He smiles and steps back to let you into the room. "Ah. Well, a phone call woke me."

Must have been some call to wake this lug. You're a little impressed.

"Business right in the morning? That's rough, love."

"Yes, actually, speaking of that... There have been some changes to today's plans, if you don't mind. I was just about to go find you myself."

Your plans for today included running laps around base, eating a hearty lunch and saying a big hello to a cyborg ninja dude. You aren't sure what sort of phone call it would take to drive that off its course. You give Winston a slow nod and encourage him to continue.

"There's an important shipment coming into the port a few towns over and I've been told gang activity is surging in the surrounding area. I'm sending you, Mercy and Reinhardt to keep an eye on it. I'll hand you a full report later. After breakfast, at least."

Your face falls just a bit. Before you can say anything, Winston speaks again.

"I know you were excited for Genji today, but I'm afraid that's going to have to wait. I really need you on this, Tracer."

He doesn't have to ask you twice. You would probably level a building for this ape if he'd asked (not that he couldn't do it himself!), postponing ninja time is nothing, really.

You give him a cheerful salute. "No biggie! See you at breakfast then!"

A cloud of dust collides with Winston's face as you speed off again.

Being sent away really doesn't dishearten you too much - it's a warm, fulfilling feeling to do work in Overwatch's name again, legally or not. Someone's gotta keep an eye on the world!

And seeing Genji in time is really a matter of how fast you can secure the objective.

You're known to be pretty fast, you'd say.

\--------

Whether due to your speed or not, the mission goes well, and no more than a day's passed when you're making your way back to base.

"You were on fire back there, Tracer." Reinhardt suddenly says, giving you a strong pat on the back. "It feels great to fight alongside you again, friend!"

Reinhardt's roaring voice makes your heart swell with pride. You're glad to know he hasn't changed one bit since you last saw him.

"Right back at ya, love! Nice to know you're still kicking after all these years."

The sound of Reinhardt's laugh rings clear trough the air. "I will never stop kicking! As long as I have legs, I shall kick onwards!"

"I will do well to make sure your legs are intact, then." Mercy pipes up, the smile on her face mirroring your own.

The trip back to base goes by in a flash, even without the use of your power.

You feel safe and homely in the company of old friends and a strong sense of belonging envelops you the whole way back.

That sense of belonging gets even stronger when you are greeted by a familiar voice upon entering the base.

"I heard you were excited to see me again?"

You look up to see Genji, same as you remember him, waving sheepishly at you from further down the hall.

You don't hold yourself back from charging straight at him, jumping to wrap your arms around his neck before he can even blink under his visor.

He mumbles something you don't quite catch as he regains his balance. You feel metallic arms wrap around you.

"Don't worry, she did that to everyone." Mei says, looking on with a smile from the side of the room. She's right. In fact, you nearly bowled the girl over entirely when she came to the base.

"It's been too long, love!" you say, still clinging onto the guy.

"It really has. It's nice to see you again, Tracer." he responds, his voice light despite the metallic filter over it. You can hear the smile in his voice.

"It is great to see you are so welcomed here, Genji." An unfamiliar voice rings out from behind the ninja.

"I am surprised myself, master. I did not expect such a warm welcome."

You crane your head out to get a better look as you let Genji set you down. It's an omnic. He gives of a sense of serenity and seems to be casually floating. His clothing rings a few bells in your mind.

"It's an honor to meet one of the Shambali," you say, offering a handshake. "I'm Tracer."

"Zenyatta." he says as he shakes your hand. "The pleasure is all mine."

You can already guess that he'll be a welcome ally, not to mention an interesting person to converse with.

You grin.

\--------

Your initial impression of Zenyatta proves to be more than correct.

Within a few conversations you become a big fan of his wisdom (the Shambali influence is clear, although he holds radically different opinions on a lot of things) and general soft, calming aura. His presence reassures you both in battle and out and you feel an innate respect within you.

You completely understand why Genji adores him so.

Zenyatta's presence brings out subtle changes in the base, as well, specifically in the form of cleanliness.

One utter of the phrase "Organised surroundings pave the path to an organised mind." is all it takes for you to see the now trademark base dust in a different way.

You soon find yourself instinctively flitting trough the base with a feather duster (you aren't entirely sure why it was in the base but you might as well utilise it for it's purpose). You're making good headway, only pausing to wave at Mercy, who gives you a thumbs up. You go on like this until you nearly knock into Genji, who seems to be embodying Zenyatta's teachings by mopping.

You flash a grin at him. He nods back.

"You seem to be enthusiastic about master's teachings." Genji says, without disrupting his careful mopping motion.

"You're still the favourite student, don't worry." you leer at him, adding a wink for good measure.

You giggle as Genji makes unintelligible noises of embarrassment.

Although time hasn't changed him much physically, you've noticed a distinct change in Genji's demeanor. The underlying anger and confusion that used to surround him, making him difficult to approach, has given way to a more peaceful attitude. You're glad to see his years of travelling alone and Zenyatta's guidance have made him feel more whole.

"I'm just messing with ya, love. Really, though. There's a lot you can learn from Zenyatta."

He nods, thoughtfully. "His teachings have done much to help me come to terms with my existence."

"I'm glad you exist, Genji." you murmur instantly, without a thought.

His mop stops moving for a good second.

"Thank you, Tracer."

A comfortable silence fills the room as you watch it become cleaner by the second.

"Master has encouraged me to face not only myself, but my brother, as well," Genji speaks softly. "I've gained a lot of insight by forgiving him."

You cast a curious glance towards the cyborg. "Have you seen your brother since then?"

"I have. There is anger within him. He has much to resolve before he can be at peace."

"I'm sure he'll come around eventually." You smile at him as you dust a rather large storage shelf. You have to jump to reach the top of it.

"Perhaps."

The silence silence that ensues is a little too tense for your liking.

"Hey, Genji?" you ask as you watch him refill the bucket he was using at a nearby sink.

"Yes?"

"You're quite fast, aren't you?" Your face stretches into a grin as he looks at you curiously. You raise a mop you found in a nearby corner. "Wanna race?"

He stands up straight. After a moment he holds his own mop up.

"You're on."

\--------

The building continues morphing into something akin to a coherent base of operations long after the mop race (which you lose gracefully. You're fast, but Genji's mopping skill is unparalleled. You're dead set on beating him in a rematch one day.) as the team settles into a more rhythmic way of handling missions.

Along with the movement of those leaving and returning from assignments, in the span of a few months the base gains life in the form of more members.

Pharah joins the ranks as soon as she hears the word "Overwatch" following a chance meeting during a mission. "I never got the chance to join before," she explains when you unsuccessfully attempt to tease her about it. "I will do my best to ensure a bright future for the organisation."

With her on your side, you feel like the future has never looked brighter.

McCree saunters into base completely unannounced one day, acting like he's been here for weeks. He isn't even phased by you leaping straight at him (the customary greeting for old friends, of course), simply drawling out a greeting and asking where he could go for some coffee (he's had a long day, he says). You do manage to crack his composure when you use the opportunity to swipe his hat and run off.

Soldier: 76 comes into your sights after a chance encounter near Dorado. You jokingly compare his heroic flair to that of a certain late strike commander and watch the mission change its course completely when your remark gets taken into serious consideration.

You had no idea that you'd hit the nail on the head until you watch him get dragged back into Overwatch by a teary-eyed Mercy and an ecstatic Reinhardt.

Soldier: 76 declines taking over leadership of the organisation when Winston offers it to him upon returning to base. "You've done a much better job so far than I ever did." he says.

Judging from the facial expressions around the room noone quite believes him.

You take the ensuing silence as your cue to give him your trademark old friend greeting.

"Glad to have you back, love." you whisper as you cling onto the guy.

"You better be," you hear as arms reluctantly wrap around you. "You're the ones who dragged me back here."

Ana is brought to the base by a group returning from a successful escort mission. She says she's not sure about staying, she just wanted to see how everyone is doing ("I see you've kept the base nice and clean." she adds and you feel a surge of pride within you as you share a giddy look with Genji).

She takes one long look at everyone, pausing to smile at an anxious Pharah, a giddy McCree, an over-excited Reinhardt. Worry crosses her face as she looks over Soldier: 76.

It takes one look around the room, filled with faces both familiar and not, to make up her mind. "I'm staying," she says. "What would you kids ever do without me?"

You take that as your cue to go for the hug. As you feel warmth circle you from every side, you realise you aren't the only one.

The warmth stays with you long after you let go. It stays with you as you watch the crowd of agents dissipate, each going about the day in their own manner. It stays with you as you watch the base bustle with life, louder and brighter with every passing day.

You feel at home again. You feel as if you'd never left. The years spent wandering alone, with no home base to come back to, seem to melt away into nonexistence.

Those years really were but a speck of hallway dust in the grand scheme of things.

A speck of dust that stands no chance against you speeding down the hall. It cannot compare to the time you'll exist, probably.

Especially now that you've got a bustling base of teammates to exist for.

\--------

It's six a.m.

The light of sunrise is mostly drowned out by your curtains. It's weak, but it's there none the less.

It's a perfect day to change the world as any!

You go trough your morning routine with a smile, pausing to look at yourself in the mirror.

Still the same as ever - a trusted Overwatch agent if you've ever seen one!

You flash yourself a confident smile.

You keep said smile on your face as you look up to greet Athena. It's important to acknowledge her constant presence in the base, after all!

"Good morning, Athena!"

"Good morning, Tracer." she responds.

You've taken great care in remembering the changes in the route you take when waking the others as the base's population grows and as more of them move around on missions.

You've also taken to poking your head into a person's room rather than shouting encouragement at the door until you hear movement. Both this and your trained memory saves you the embarrassment of continuously yelling at a room only to be told it's empty (You spent half an hour trying to wake an absent Torbjörn once. McCree still won't let you live it down).

Rather than simply starting with the room closest to yours like you used to, you start every morning with a mad dash for Pharah's room. You make an effort to wake Pharah before her alarm goes off. You think her waking up to a friendly face shouting greetings is much better than the angry beeping of her digital clock.

You've even gone as far as to secretly set her clock a minute slow.

After greeting Pharah, you move down the hall, waking people as you go.

You enthusiastically yell the date, time and whatever you know of the mission status to Soldier: 76 who, despite declining leadership, likes to know what's happening around base.

Your face lights up when Mercy answers your usual morning question by promising she's had a full night's sleep instead of working late into the night as she's prone to do.

Your smile persists as you hear Mei enthuse about the weather finally getting colder ("I don't dislike the heat, it's just so cosy to wake up to actual frost on your window, don't you think? No matter how slight it is!").

It takes you nearly 10 minutes and an improvised musical number to fully wake McCree after peeling the post-it note off his door ("The lug's in. Wake him." it reads. You don't really need reminders to wake Torbjörn, nor do you need McCree's sass. You occasionally leave him responses in the form of doodles, mostly caricatures of McCree's dumb cowboy face. You're quite proud of the amount of detailed obnoxiousness you manage to convey on a small post-it note.).

You expertly dodge whatever Torbjörn decides to throw at you as he wakes. "Your aim's getting much better, love!" you cheer before moving on to Reinhardt, who enthusiastically recounts the incredible dream he's just had.

You poke your head into Zenyatta's room only to realise it's empty. The nice weather must have drawn him outside for a walk. You relay this information to Genji before he even asks (he always asks. It took him a while to get the question out the first few times and you've caught on since then).

You prod Winston off of the uninviting pile of papers that served as his 'bed' for the night. You chastise him about staying up late again, knowing he needs to be up early the following day and tell him not to grumble at you.

"Not everyone is an early bird like you, Tracer." he continues to grumble.

"But everyone sure needs the same amount of sleep I do, Winston. Up you go now, love! There's a sandwich for you in the fridge." you respond, knowing the reason he stays up is just as much his own inability to keep time as it is the amount of work he's piled on himself. The least you can do is make him a sandwich and cheer him out of bed in the morning.

The last stop on the wake up train is Ana's room. You wake Ana and watch as she puts on the electric kettle, then readies her morning cup of tea. "Care to join me?" She asks, gesturing to a second cup.

You smile. There's a reason why Ana's room is always the last stop. It means you get to enjoy morning tea time with her as long as you like, without any oversleepers to worry about.

It's a perfect day to change the world as any, you think. But this might be the most perfect moment of the entire day for you.

You can't help your wide grin as the teacup warms your hands. You begin retelling Reinhardt's crazy dream to Ana.

\--------

Despite the amount of loud personalities (yourself included!) that reside at the base, quiet days aren't entirely rare.

With a large group of agents gone for a mission up north, you find yourself missing the constant chatter that usually fills the building.

You don't like the silence. It feels like you're alone again. Feels as if time itself has stopped, leaving you behind.

You catch yourself aimlessly wandering trough the halls multiple times throughout the weeks, giving every clock you find a passing glance, just to make sure time is still moving.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the distinct clutter of pots in the kitchen interrupts the silence during one of these runs.

Upon poking your head into the kitchen, you spot Mei, mumbling to herself as she picks up some of the utensils scattered on the floor of the kitchen.

"What are you up to?" you ask and then instantly recoil as the pots are scattered on the ground again.

"Tracer? You scared me!" she gasps.

"Sorry! Didn't meant to startle you, love. What were you doing?" You lean down and help her gather the pots, feeling slightly guilty about causing them to scatter again.

"Well, I... I was trying to find the right pot for a stew," she pauses to put the pots back into the cupboard they came from, keeping a few out on the countertop. "I thought that since Pharah and the rest come back today, it'd be nice to make something for everyone to eat together, don't you agree?"

Oh, you agree. You agree wholeheartedly. You are downright giddy as she continues.

"I thought I'd make something warm and hearty since they'll probably be a little cold on their way home."

You are equally astonished at how downright nice Mei is and ecstatic about the idea of eating a meal with everyone (you don't let the fact that the base has no table big enough to fit more than six people stop you). Combined with your excitement about the idea of stew itself, you become a force of pure giddiness.

"That's a stellar idea! Can I help?"

A smile lights up Mei's face. "Of course. I appreciate the company, Tracer."

You, meanwhile, appreciate her. The world has changed so much over the recent years, but Mei's stayed exactly the same - a beacon of sweetness, hope and inspiration.

It's somehow comforting to know someone who's changed about as much as you have in the past years, even if it's for completely different reasons.

"The base has changed a lot recently, hasn't it? The cutlery is all in the wrong places..." she says after she opens the wrong drawer for the umpteenth time.

"A lot's changed, honestly. You've stayed as pretty as always, however!" you wink at her. She giggles.

"Thank you, Tracer. You don't look a day older, yourself."

"I'm not sure that's a good thing though - I look like a child compared to some of us now," you say jokingly. Mei smiles.

"Still, it's really nice to have some semblance of normality after skipping out on some years. You're right about everything changing a lot," she says, looking wistful. "but at least you saw it all as it happened."

A memory flashes trough your mind - the sensation of slipping out of everyone's time frame. Months disappearing in seconds, seconds spent trying to cling onto something - anything to help anchor you to the world.

You know how she feels.

"Well, we've got a lot of future changes to see. Changes to cause, even!" Mei stops cutting a carrot and looks straight at you, surprised. "And you've got front row seats to all of it, love."

"That's true," she says after a moment, a smile now present on her face. "Let's focus on the future of this stew for now, shall we?"

"Can't think of a better place to start!"

As you help Mei through the preparation of various vegetables, you realise that perhaps you don't really need the constant chatter to feel at home.

You also realise you're not as great at cooking as you thought when you nearly burn the kitchen down. You learn to appreciate Mei's ice more than ever.

\--------

It's one p.m.

It's a quarter past five.

It's 9:56 a.m.

The system's malfunctioning. The world around you rattles, then snaps into stillness again.

It's half past three.

You manage to make out the silhouette of a door handle. You reach out and watch your hand phase right trough it.

It's four a.m.

The world is shaking again. You feel your hands slip off the controls.

It's 8:30 a.m.

It's noon.

A person's face appears in front of you, startled. "Help me" you manage to call out, before everything changes again.

It's half past seven.

It's 3:45 p.m.

You're crashing again. You hear yourself scream as the world around you becomes a blur.

You sit up in your bed, panic whirring trough you. Your hand finds the chronal accelerator firmly anchored to your chest.

You hold onto it as you turn to the red numbers of the clock on your desk.

4:36, it reads.

And continues to read as you keep your gaze firmly locked on it.

4:36, the red numbers continue to shine.

You don't know if you can handle watching it change to 4:37.

You keep watching in fear of it changing to something else.

4:36.

4:36.

4:37.

You take a deep breath, convincing yourself that you will remain in the same place when you breathe out. It will still be 4:37.

You take a few more breaths. The chronal accelerator envelops you in a comforting blue light.

It's okay. You're okay. Winston fixed you, remember? It's 4:37.

You calm yourself down as best you can. You can't go back to sleep. Not right now. Not at 4:37.

Or at 4:40, as the clock now reads.

You keep your eyes firmly on the clock as you leave the room.

You slowly pad trough the familiar halls, your path illuminated by the blue light from your chest.

You're nearing the exit when a voice startles you.

"Tracer?"

You turn around carefully, as to not disrupt the world around you.

A familiar configuration of lights on the head of a silhouette catches your sight.

"It is much too cold to be heading outside like that, Tracer." Zenyatta says.

You instinctively reach out to confirm his presence as much as your own.

Your hand lands on a metal arm, securely. It doesn't phase trough, no matter how long you look. You keep looking. You watch the arm move upwards and slowly, deliberately land a metal hand on your upper arm.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

You slowly shake your head.

"Come along. Let us move somewhere warmer."

You let yourself be led by the steady hand on your shoulder. Zenyatta leads you to a couch in the lounge and gently sits you down beside him.

You take a moment to listen to the soft whirr emanating from him before your voice finds you.

"I had... I had a nightmare," A nightmare. That's all it was. "about the past."

Zenyatta gently encourages you to continue. You lay your head on his shoulder as you slowly retell your dream. The constant change of time. The inability to touch. The hopelessness. The crash.

You feel metal arms envelop you in an embrace. You lean against the firm frame of the omnic.

"I thought I'd moved on past it all by now, but..." you trail off. You really did have it all under control, for years now. You didn't have time to dwell on it back then.

You have all the time in the world now.

"It is important to move forward," Zenyatta begins. "but not without making peace with the past."

You were sure you'd made peace with it. It made you who you are today. Who you'll be for as long as time exists.

"I'll surely have to move forward. Even as time catches up to the rest of you."

You choose not to dwell on it, most of the time. On the fact that the structure of the base lessens by a grain or two every day, but you will still stand long after it crumbles into ruins. On the fact that every year sees a new wrinkle on your teammates faces while you remain unchanged.

On the fact that one day you'll be the only one left.

"There will be others moving forward with you then." Zenyatta's voice rings out. You can't discern whether it's the voice, the thought, or a combination of both, but something about what is said calms you.

"Hopefully. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you all died on me all at once."

You work hard to keep them all safe. To keep everyone safe. The team, the world, everyone. The thought that time, the one thing you have most control over, will be the one to take them all from you terrifies you to no end. Noone can escape it. Unless...

"Do omnics age, Zenyatta?"

You listen to the whirr of his motors. It's hard to imagine them ever slowing.

"Yes. One day I, too, will be the grouchy old man feeding pigeons at the park."

The image in your head shifts from tragic to comedic in the span of a second. Or a minute. You don't care to count.

You let out a weak giggle.

"You're gonna be the perfect wise old gradpa robot, then."

You aren't sure where the stereotype of robot bodies being cold originated from, but you'd stake your life against it. Right here, enveloped within warm arms and rhythmically whirring mechanisms, you feel warmer than any blanket could make you.

You wake up in that same warmth. You open your eyes to see several others peer right back at you, wondering why their usual wake-up cheer wasn't there.

You flash a bright grin at them.

It's past six a.m.

A good day to change the world as any.

\--------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops of Talon related missions.

An odd mix of anger and excitement stirs within you ( as rarely does an enemy put up a fight the way she does. You can't help your thrill-seeking ways.) and you cannot stop yourself from dashing towards Widowmaker, blinking yourself onto the roof behind her.

"You having fun up here, love?" you ask and instantly jump back, having anticipated the kick she throws at you.

"Sneaking up on people isn't a fair way to start a duel, is it now?" You hear her say over the sound of gunfire.

"Isn't that your entire job though? Sneaking bullets into people from far away?" You ask, jumping towards a higher rooftop. High ground always helps. She'd know, you're sure.

A dark laugh escapes her lips. "I don't exactly aim to be fair. I aim to kill."

You keep your eyes firmly locked on her, trying to anticipate her next move.

"Well, you're gonna have to aim better if you wanna catch me!"

And aim she does.

It goes on like this nearly every time you see her. She shoots, you dodge, counterattack.

Your surroundings blur as you focus your sights entirely on her elegant frame. The mission becomes more of a side-goal in comparison to beating her. The voices over the comm are mere whispers in your mind against the mocking remarks she spits between gunfire.

A duel, she called it. That's a little too stiff a title, you think.

A dance, you'd call it. Rhythmically moving along with another person, that's all it is. She moves back, you dash forward. She shoots left, you jump right.

A bit deadly for a dance, some would say.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

"Care for a dance, love?" you ask next time you meet her on yet another rooftop. You interpret the bullet she fires in response to be the first step.

\--------

News outlets had occasionally reminded you of Brazil's situation over the last few years - you'd heard of the tensions between the government and the citizens, the fight that eventually drove Vishkar out, Vishkar not giving up its efforts on the surrounding area. It's only when the situation gets tense enough for Winston to send out a group of you (you, McCree, Reinhardt, Mei and Ana in lead. A formidable group, if ever.) to dispel conflict does the whole thing become truly real to you.

The mission, which was probably destined to be a mess judging from Winston's reluctant face when he sent you out and the fact that you can hear the protest rally even before your comparatively loud jet lands, goes from a mess to complete trainwreck as Talon agents suddenly disperse among the crowd (and quickly start dispersing the crowd).

Whatever effort your group had made in pacifying the crowd of protesters and Vishkar officials is made obsolete as chaos fills the area.

You catch yourself looking at rooftops as Ana barks orders over the comm. No silouhette. You don't know whether that's a good thing or not.

You mentally chide yourself. No time to think about this now, Tracer! It's go time.

What was once a protest rally turns into a borderline massacre and you struggle to keep the Talon guys at bay while Ana and Reinhardt do their best at herding te civillians into safety.

You watch the surprise in a Talon agent's eyes as you blink forward and recall yourself back, but the element of surprise doesn't do much against the fact that you're somewhat outnumbered.

You don't let that fact get to you. You can take them! A couple extra guys is nothing to you when you're on fire.

Your confidence falters as an ear-piercing scream rings over the comm. Mei.

You turn around only to see a frail silouhette struggle to keep upright where an inpenetrable ice wall stood a second ago. A black shadow slinks away. Reaper.

Your confidence falls a slight bit more.

You blink yourself to shield Mei from any further gunfire. You don't have time to realise you have no plan for this. You aren't exactly a defensive wall. Defensive walls are more Mei's area of expertise than anything.

You hope staying alive is her primary area of expertise right now.

Your eyes frantically search for a route to safety that doesn't involve coming face-to-face with a black blur. Said blur seems to be heading in a direction you'd rather not see him go - towards Ana and Reinhardt. Knowing there's nothing you can do about that brings a scowl to your face.

Your scowl turns into confusion as music suddenly fills your ears.

You feel faster than ever.

You turn to the source of the music to see a green blur swoop in and pick Mei out of your hands before you can even react (which is pretty fast considering you're the speed expert of the group. You wish you had time to be impressed).

"Go!" the guy yells and you do what you can - trust his judgement and run.

You vaguely register the guy speak to Mei ("It's okay, you're okay. I got you.") as you dash towards the direction you last saw Reaper.

It takes no time for him to catch on to what you're doing and, even with your current speed, he manages to beat you to the punch. Or, well, shot. Which is exactly what you hear from behind you.

You recall yourself out of the way and get ready to fight. He's not getting anywhere with you around.

You tussle, the occasional blink and wayward shot from other Talon agents punctuating your battle until you run straight into a familiar tall figure, his gun already in firing motion.

"They're done escorting the civilians. We're retreatin'," McCree says. "you go get Mei, I'll hold 'em down."

Any protest you squeak out is ignored as you feel yourself pushed back. You can tell McCree's as excited about retreating as you are, really. You don't care that your legs are exhausted, or that the nasty wound on your thigh isn't helping, or that Talon's numbers aren't dwindling as much as you'd like.

You had them, you swear.

The action's not exactly over for you, you realise as you discover Mei holding back the vast majority of the Talon agents that managed to get away from you today.

You feel alive as the sound of music fills your ears again.

"Go! I'm putting up an ice wall!" you hear Mei yell, voice rasp, and you need no further instruction.

You regroup with Reinhardt and Ana, who instantly starts fussing about Mei.

"That ice wall was right on time but goodness, what happened to you? Stay still for a second."

"It's okay, Ana," Mei responds. Ana doesn't look entirely convinced. "Lúcio helped me."

The group's attention is redirected towards the man helping Mei stand. He waves.

You've heard of Lúcio before. He's an inspiring figure, whether you look at him as an artist or an icon of revolution. You didn't quite piece that to the green blur spreading swanky beats at you during battle. Speaking of which...

"Oh, love, what'd you do back there?!" you ask, very excited. "I caught up to Reaper in a flash!"

"Helped you out. No problem!" he says with a smile. "Thanks for looking out for my people. Really appreciate it."

"We came here to help out," Mei says, voice still a little shaky. "not sure how much we really helped, what with Talon and all..." she mumble a second later.

"Nah, nah, you guys rocked big time! You're Overwatch, right?" he says and watches Mei nod, a little more sure in her movements than before. Everyone lets out a sigh of relief. Especially Ana. "Pretty nice of you to come help out here."

"Well... Talon might have lashed out less if we hadn't... We don't exactly have great shared history, do we?" Mei says, mostly to herself. She's somewhat right though. Talon's been at your tail since before the recall. You've heard a lot about the Reaper guy from Winston and...

Your thoughts trail off as you remember exactly where you last saw Reaper and exactly who held him back for you.

"McCree's still out there," you breathe out, cutting whatever Reinhardt was saying short.

A sense of panic sets over the group as you alone dash out of cover without a thought or any sort of strategy.

You hear Ana command you to hide and you do what you can to be sneaky without slowing down (which is to say your effort is controversial at best. You can already imagine the lecture you'll get for this).

You find McCree face down in a pool of blood and you swear time stops around you as pure panic sets in.

You make a mad dash for him, not stopping to think about cover. There's no time to. What if you're late? You can't think right now.

You listen for a sound, any sound, to assure you that time hasn't come to a stop.

You hear faint breaths.

A surge of hope joins the mess of panicked emotions within you as you raise McCree onto your shoulders. It's not exactly a carry, seeing as he's a little tall for that, but it's the best you can do on short notice.

Short notice may be all you have, really.

You make your way back to the others, doing your best to hide both you and McCree, with all his jingling belts and spurs, from the Talon agents still moving about.

You round a corner and are startled when you find yourself face to face with a young woman surrounded by a telling blue glow.

You don't have the time to speculate about the fact that this is the first Vishkar member you've actually seen since Talon appeared. You realise you have no clue what to expect from her.

"Please," you plead when she points her gun at you. "we're retreating. My friend is hurt!"

The sound of gunfire way closer than you'd like echoes trough the air. Talon's discovered you. You were so close, too.

You don't give up. You never do.

You feel yourself enveloped by shields as you launch yourself into a sprint for cover.

You move around as much as you can manage while carrying McCree, trying to shake Talon when Lúcio's voice gets your attention. He speeds you along to relative safety.

The Vishkar woman isn't there when you look back. You didn't get to thank her, you think to yourself as Ana looks over McCree, who's still safely in your grasp. Who's still breathing.

"We must retreat," Ana says, breaking you out of your thoughts. "He's barely holding. There's only so much I can do. The jet's nearby, we should get to it in one piece," She continues, taking some of McCree's weight from you. "Reinhardt, barrier up."

"Right!" Reinhardt responds instantly.

You look back and forth at everyone. "Wait, wait, what about the people? We shouldn't leave Lúcio to deal with Talon alone!"

"Talon will likely trail us, Tracer. We have to go." Ana explains. Whatever protest you might have said gets cut off by Lúcio.

"It's alright, I've got things covered here. You guys make sure he's okay, alright?"

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again, realising there's no other way to go about this.

"I'll get Winston to send backup as soon as we can! I swear!" You promise with all your heart, no matter the fact you can already imagine the sour look on the ape's face. The media will not be kind to Overwatch about this trainwreck of an appearance, will it.

You don't care about what the media will say or what the government will say. These people need help.

That's what Overwatch is all about, isn't it?

You try not to dwell on the thought that you haven't exactly brought a lot of help to Brazil so far.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Lúcio hands you a scrap of paper. There's an e-mail address on it.

"Write me when you get back, alright? I'll get back to you when I calm all this down," you nod. You make sure to put the note away safely. "You'll be okay, you hear? We'll party someday." He adds in a softer voice.

You make Lúcio promise to call for backup if anything happens.

You manage to make it to the jet safely. McCree is much easier to move with Ana's help.

The group rushes preparations for takeoff, Talon still hot on your tail. You psyche yourself up. Everything's gonna be okay, Lúcio said so. You believe Lúcio.

All of your efforts to get your spirits up get crushed as Ana utters the one sentence you didn't ever want to hear again.

"I'm gonna need you to pilot."

You freeze.

You can't. Not since.

You don't get your voice back in time to protest. Ana uses this moment to speak again.

"McCree's critical. Darts only do so much, I need to watch over him." You're still dazed. This isn't happening.

Ana's hands on your shoulders keep you anchored in reality.

"I'll guide you trough it, Lena. It's alright." her voice softens. You lean against her for a second.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

You're doing this.

Lúcio said you'll be okay. You gotta be.

You keep an eye on the digital clock throughout the whole trip. You jump every time the number changes.

The slightest shake of the aircraft sends a wave of panic trough you and the bout of turbulence you hit as you're nearing the base makes you downright hysterical. You stay panicked as you're guided trough emergency landing. Which is one of many reasons it goes poorly.

You don't quite register what's happening around you as you're brought out of the jet. You vaguely hear Mercy instruct someone to guide you to your room.

You let yourself be lead by a presence you eventually recognize to be Genji. You hold onto his wrist when he sits you down onto your bed.

"Please stay," you hear yourself croak out. You try to explain yourself further but nothing comes out. You don't think you've ever had nothing to say before.

Genji moves to sit down beside you. He doesn't protest when you lean against him.

You feel the exhaustion setting in. You don't remember the last time you were this tired.

You vaguely notice another presence float into the room, soundless. You feel warm as Zenyatta sits down beside you.

You let yourself doze off, convinced they'll still be there when you wake up. You'll still be there.

You're okay. Lúcio said so.

\--------

The next few weeks fly by in a blur.

With every day without any word from Lúcio, you frantically check news outlets for updates on Brazil. You notice Winston steel his face every time Overwatch involvement gets brought up and can't help but feel a little guilty. You can't stand to see the guy doubt his choices like this when you know he's done nothing wrong - he brought you all back together because the world needs you. No news outlet, politician or anyone should make him think otherwise.

You make him extra sandwiches (they're a replacement for the peanut butter jars Mercy's banned him from eating), leave encouraging notes and generally keep him company as much as you can without impeding his work. Your heart nearly breaks as every bit of effort to pick him up gets cancelled out, every negative word a piercing shot straight to the ape's confidence.

"Don't let them get to you," Soldier: 76 tells him one day, interrupting a particularly sharply-worded discussion on TV. "sometimes you make the right decision and end up with the wrong consequences."

You quietly watch 76 stand up and put a hand on Winston's shoulder as he continues. "We all know you're doing good for the world. It's just a matter of proving it to them."

The rest of the interview gets completely ignored as you and Winston sit in pensive silence after 76 leaves the room.

You leave a note near the sandwiches you lovingly prepare for his breakfast the next day.

Winston smiles as he reads it.

"We'll all fight until the world believes in you as much as we do, love!"

You would prove every naysayer wrong single-handed if that's what it took to keep that smile on his face.

It only takes a couple days after that for Lúcio to write back to you, saying that he's okay, everything's under control and there's no need to send any help. Winston sends out a group anyway.

The time you don't dedicate attempting to help Winston is spent checking up on McCree. Despite the terrifying state he was in when you brought him back to base, it only takes him a day to be brought back to consciousness and only a few days after that to grow antsy about being constricted to bed rest.

"It'll take a lot more than that to keep me down for good." he says every time someone enthuses about his quick recovery.

"Keep testing my patience an you'll be down forever." you hear Mercy mumble after she catches McCree attempting to get up and sneak away for the third time that day. The fact that he hasn't gotten past the "getting up" bit (both due to Mercy's watchful eye and the pain of a still-healing injury) doesn't seem to discourage him in the least.

If there's anything that kills McCree, it'll be boredom, you think.

Not entirely on board with the idea of him dying of anything, boredom included, you start bringing something for him every time you visit. Books, crosswords, games, other agents to play said games with - nothing seems to quell his need to get up and leave the bed. Fearing for both his health and Mercy's temper, you keep trying.

"Anything I should bring next time, love?" is a phrase that seems to punctuate the end of every visit.

"Some of them post-it notes, maybe," he replies the very first time you ask. "Someone's gotta make sure you remember to get Torbjörn out of bed every mornin'."

You can't help but smile as you explain that your memory's fine and you don't need sass from a man who forgets to plug in the toaster nearly every time he uses it for what seems to be the hundredth time. You'd explain it a hundred more times so long as he stays alive and well.

You skip trough the hallways of the base, your step lighter than ever, when post-it notes become part of your morning routine again.

\--------

You don't mind the route of your usual morning jog trough base getting even more convoluted as the population expands. The sight of the base bustling with life as agents go about missions and daily life gives you more than enough strength to hop trough the halls.

Lúcio gets brought to base by the returning expedition from Brazil a couple months since they left. You very much bowl him off his feet when you give him the traditional Tracer greeting hug(TM) (which is actually shaping up to be a pretty formidable charge. You bet you could give Reinhardt a run for his money). Your giddiness persists when you realize his voice is just as exited as yours.

"You guys really tried to help us out back there," he begins when asked why he's here. "It really made a difference, you know? Gave my people a real morale boost. And I thought, that's the kind of crowd I wanna be with, the kind that inspires people. Helps them out."

Lúcio himself quickly inspires happiness in people even as he is walked around the base. He chatters to Ana as she shows him around, stops to discuss healing strategies with Mercy and absolutely lights up upon seeing McCree alive and well.

The base starts sounding livelier than ever with Lúcio's music as a frequent backdrop.

Bastion is coaxed into joining the team by Mei, who seems to have befriended them over a shared love for nature. It takes a while for some to lose the habit of reaching for their weapon upon sight of the omnic and while a few agents still see their presence as a threat, you warm up to them quickly as you watch them carefully interact with the limited amount of greenery around the base.

You take the time to bring home a potted plant for them from your next mission and as you listen to their excited beeping while it studies the gift, you realize you would no doubt fight anyone who considers them a heartless machine.

You don't know exactly when and how Winston manages to recruit Junkrat and Roadhog onto your team, but you come back from a mission one day to find them hanging around base like they've been here for a while. You don't quite know what to think of them until you witness Toaster Incident II the next day, when you quickly get an explanation for exactly why the distinct smell of gunpowder envelops the pair (especially Junkrat).

("It wasn't even me this time, I swear." McCree sighs every time someone enters the noticeably singed toaster-less kitchen and looks straight at him for an explanation.)

You take a moment during your morning tea-time to close your eyes and listen to the base. You can just make out the muffled sound of music in the distance. The occasional pitter-patter of footsteps in the halls. A distinct set of beeps and boops as Bastion moves trough the base with a certain degree of confidence (they don't quite feel safe in the building yet, but they're getting there). An explosion echoes trough the halls, followed by voices of varying degrees of mirth.

It sounds like home alright.

\-------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops of Talon related missions.

You send a sarcastic grin along with a mock salute her way, receive the usual eye-roll and bullet combo in return and the dance begins.

This becomes nearly as routine to you as the morning run trough base. You salute, she shoots, the battle begins.

Your objective gets gradually forgotten as your attention is taken up by Widowmaker. You sometimes take a moment to wonder why noone on your team has chewed you out for this yet.

You once overhear Mercy instruct your team-mates to "let Lena and the sniper do their thing" before a mission, which raises just as many questions as it answers.

Your usual meeting routine goes on until you manage to dash straight into a wall in haste to dodge the greeting bullet one day and watch Widowmaker struggle to keep down her laughter.

The ominous laugh you would have expected from her melts into an oddly charming display of snorts and giggles that persist throughout the rest of the fight.

You can't help but laugh along with her as you dash around various buildings, chasing her down. The usually fast paced fight slows as you occasionally have to stop and catch your breath from laughing and her shots become marginally less accurate as her arms shake from mirth.

You catch yourself giggling long after the fight is done. You're not even sure who won. You are miles away from the rest of the group when Mercy calmly calls you back with the voice inflection of a mother calling her child from the playground for lunch. You suppose that's what you are in that moment - a kid coming home from the most intense game of tag.

You find the confidence in you to wave goodbye to Widowmaker as you dash away, blinking yourself forward to put some distance between you in case she tries to hunt you down. She doesn't.

Your greeting smile becomes a lot more genuine the next time you see her. You salute.

The dance begins.

\--------

As weeks go by, even the small, often dingy temporary away bases start to feel like home.

It's six a.m., but with the residual effect of the timezone change (you should have gotten used to it by now, really), even you don't quite feel like your usual morning best.

You don't let that hinder your morning routine though. You wash up, get dressed, pause to look at yourself in the noticeably cracked mirror.

Still the same as ever, unless you count the obvious sleepiness in your eyes.

You give yourself the heartiest smile you can muster.

You instinctively open your mouth to greet Athena before realising she isn't here. You shrug, making a mental note to give her a big nice greeting once you get back home.

You work the sleepiness out of your bones as you flit around the small base, poking your head into your teammates' rooms to cheer them awake.

You start with Lúcio, who's taken to accompanying you on your morning rounds. You wish this place had enough room to race him in. Racing Lúcio in the morning is one of the things you miss most while you're away.

You barely lose to Pharah's usual morning alarm (she brought a new alarm to this mission. You haven't had the chance to set it slightly slow yet). She goes off to make coffee for Mercy before you or Lúcio even ask.

You wake Mercy softly (as softly as your cheers will go) and kindly wait for her to move out of earshot before you start waking Torbjörn. You and Lúcio share a look as you clear your throats and prepare for the solid 15 minute shouting spree required to wake the swede.

The sight of Torbjörn's pillow flying trough the air in your general direction informs you of your success. You turn to offer Lúcio a high five and watch the pillow collide with his face.

"Are you getting soft in your old age, love?" you tease Torbjörn as you watch him wobble out of bed. "Why does Lúcio get a pillow instead of, I don't know, the wrench you usually throw at me?"

"Because I can't keep wasting all my good wrenches on loud brats. Only for the loudest."

"Your arm's a wrench," you mumble. Your head suddenly reels forward as a pillow collides with the back of it. You hear Lúcio's laugh get more and more faint as he runs away.

Oh, it's on.

You grab the pillow and run after him, laughing as you hear Torbjörn shouting behind you ("...my pillow! I need that!").

Pharah doesn't budge one bit when you knock into her as she steps out into the hallway right in front of you. She takes your moment of surprise as her chance to drag you into the kitchen with her.

"Stop fooling around for a moment, Tracer. We're on a mission." she says, sitting down at the table next to Mercy.

Uh-oh. Are you about to get scolded? What a great way to start the day.

You glance at Mercy who helpfully shrugs and continues sipping her coffee.

"I'm gonna need you to guard the west wing today. I just wanted you to know that," Pharah says, her voice considerably less stern. "That's all. You're free to go, fool around as you wish."

You grin and give her a salute. Pharah's a little nervous about Winston choosing her to lead this mission. You're not exactly sure why - she's done a great job so far.

You get exactly one step out of the room before you feel something soft collide with the back of your head again.

"You forgot this." Pharah says, the epitome of a shit-eating grin on her face. Mercy struggles to keep her laugh down beside her.

Now it's really on. Everyone in this base is getting woken up by pillows to the face tomorrow.

After the pillow scuffle that ensues (during which you get thoroughly pummeled. 2 on 1 really isn't fair!) everyone splits up into their places for the day.

The chill of the Korean winter envelops you as you make your way to where you were assigned.

The rising number of omnic attacks around the world wasn't something post-recall Overwatch had dealt with before this mission. The fact that most governments are against your organisation (even more than ever, after a Vishkar representative outright condemned you on an interview a little while ago), along with the fact that most of the attacks have so far been centered in Russia, a country which has historically denied outside intervention for decades, has kept Overwatch from getting involved in omnic-related incidents.

Despite all that, when Winston receives a request for a team to guard the headquarters of a Korean corporation until it sets up its own security measures (along with a promise of considerable pay), a group of you is sent straight into the fray.

Or, well, somewhat near it, for the most part.

You aren't sure whether it's because of the fact that the omnium is within city grounds, but the omnic attacks are sporadic in both timing and place, impossible to predict. While you've had your fair share of encounters, you've also felt the day drag on as nothing at all happens. Today is looking to be that kind of day.

Or perhaps not, you think as an explosion rings somewhere in the distance.

You tense in anticipation.

The commotion continues, but it's becoming more quiet. They're moving the opposite direction from the building.

You pace back and forth. You can't sit still when you know there's something happening so close to you. There are probably people who are hurt. There are definitely people who need your help.

"Someone cover west for me. I'm bringing the battle to them." you say over the comm as you dash off. Noise fills your ear as everyone responds at the same time (you can barely make out the words "out of your mind" and "brought an extra turret" said by very different people with very different emotions).

You'll deal with the lecture you deserve for this later. Right now you've got robots to deal with.

\--------

You end up staying in Korea a lot longer than you'd anticipated.

Your teammates get used to having to cover for you as you blink yourself towards the commotion, which seems to become more and more common as time goes on. Occasionally a teammate joins you as you try to balance saving people from collapsing buildings and counterattacking the omnics that caused said collapse.

You get used to coming home completely drained as the attacks get more frequent by the day.

"We can't leave yet, love," you tell Winston over a call after your official mission is done. "these people need us heroes here right now! We can't just abandon them!"

The lecture you expect never comes as Winston nods, determination in his eyes mirroring yours.

"Be safe out there. Call if you need reinforcements."

You don't know why you expected Winston not to understand. He united you all for this, after all. The world needs you.

"Don't mom me, Winston! Angela's here for that." You laugh.

He has nothing to worry about, really.

You tune yourself into news reports, radio stations, anything that could help you determine where attacks are happening. Though the fact your ability to understand Korean is mediocre at best doesn't do much good for you. Pharah, however, is surprisingly decent at it.

You don't know why she ever doubted her leadership on this mission.

The news have no mention of Overwatch involvement, though a sighting of Lúcio is briefly brought up, causing mostly confusion. One site claims he's here on tour and even goes as far as to sell tickets. Lúcio nearly pulls his hair out in anxiety as he informs his fans it's a scam and assures them he'll come to Korea at a later time - a less dangerous time, presumably. You watch him add not one, not two but three extra concerts to the Korea section of his world tour plan, just in case.

An order of evacuation is issued to the city, which makes patrolling slightly more difficult, what with the amount of people rushing around the streets while trying to get to safety. You do your best to help guide them, putting on your kindest of smiles. They need the optimism right now.

You occasionally come across a member of South Korea's own defense force, but you assume they haven't caused a stir or even accidentally tattled your involvement in the battles to their higher-ups, as you continue getting past the radar without trying.

That is, until you meet D.Va.

You're dashing back and forth trough a building that's making too much noise to be considered stable, guiding civilians to safety. You make sure to keep a smile on your face for them.

You're doing your best to coax a teenage boy from a small corner he's tucked into. Rapid Korean fills your ears as he points down to his leg, which you then notice to be held down by debris. All of your concentration from that point on is taken up by freeing the boy's leg.

Which is why you don't hear the approach of a comparatively large omnic until it busts trough the ceiling right behind you.

You guess Winston will have something to worry about now. You maneuver your body to shield the boy as much as possible.

Time feels like it's stopped for a moment as you brace yourself for pain.

It never comes.

For a moment you're convinced you actually stopped time until you realise you can still hear noise.

You crack open an eye which is instantly assaulted by the brightest, pinkest shade of pink you've ever seen.

You raise your head a slight bit more when you realise the bright pink is the reason the pain didn't come. A loud clunk rings trough the air as something hits the ground. The omnic, you assume, as pink is still standing in front of you.

The pink thing turns around and suddenly you're faced with the tiny Korean girl piloting it.

And, unbeknownst to you, the 12000 viewers of her currently ongoing livestream.

"Why didn't you guys run? The door's right here." she says, pointing at the door, which is in fact, right there.

"We were a little preoccupied," you say, pointing at the mass of debris still holding down the boy's leg.

She mumbles a little "You should've said so, jeez" as she effortlessly frees the boy, who you then prompt onto your back.

"What's with the chat, guys? Am I supposed to know who this is? Because I totally don't." the girl speaks, seemingly to herself. You don't get to question her before Lúcio swoops into the building yelling about how we're almost done and everyone's moving forward and are you guys ok there?

You give him a brief thumbs up and then watch recognition cross the mech girl's face.

Along with the faces of most of her viewers (of which there are now 15000, still very much unbeknownst to you).

"Okay, I know who that is though! Oh my god!" the girl laughs, excitement in her voice.

Lúcio and the girl (you hear Lúcio refer to her as "D.Va" and some bells ring in your mind) chatter on excitedly (with you joining in as often as you can) as you get the boy to safety, catch up to the others and finish off the remaining omnics.

You come back to your temporary home that day, giddy about making a new friend.

It takes less than an hour for you to learn the consequences of it, as you turn on the news only to see yourself near a pile of rubble with a teenage boy beside you, stare back at you from the screen. The words "Overwatch" and "Korea" are written in bold font.

"We did stay here knowing we'd be spotted eventually. What's really surprising is how long it took." Mercy shrugs on the couch beside you.

"No kidding. How blind do you have to be to miss a bright orange goofball runnin' around your streets?" Torbjörn says, then laughs when you let out a little "Hey!" of indignation.

Lúcio's image appears on the screen. The serious mood of the news is somewhat diluted by the fact that they seem to have left the chat from D.Va's stream on screen right beside the image. "is that fucking Lucio??" "ayy its dat boi" "gg stream's over boysss" "get your vintage memes out of here u fuck" is all you manage to read before it cuts to another image, but it's enough to get you giggling.

You shake off whatever bit of worry the news caused before you go to bed.

Now that the world knows you're here, you might as well do Overwatch proud. You've got a long day ahead of you.

Infact, the next few days feel exceedingly long. The time that isn't spent holding back omnic attacks, the frequency of which is getting close to an unbearable level (even with the help of D.Va and other MEKA pilots), is taken up by various news reports, as they move away from the topic of Overwatch in favour of reporting the alarming growth of omnic-related incidents in Asia. You shudder as you hear about the attacks in India, the number of which has increased tenfold since they began a week ago.

You shortly wonder whether Winston's considered sending anyone there before you remember the tone of voice the Vishkar representative used when speaking of Overwatch in an interview a few weeks prior and realise it might not be a good idea after all. Dealing with Vishkar and the government on top of the attacks sounds nearly impossible (though you would do it without so much as a peep if Winston asked).

You take a moment each day to wonder whether Bastion and Zenyatta (and Genji. You think he should be included here) are well.

The government of Korea asks Overwatch to leave, but doesn't further persecute you when you don't. The MEKA pilots work with you as much as they can.

You keep working hard,ignoring the pain your bones as they ache and beg for rest. The attacks grow bigger and stronger each time, seemingly endless.

Until they end, just like that.

You spend the day patrolling the mostly empty streets, a mix of looming dread and hope filling your head with possibilities.

None of the possible reasons you thought of are anywhere near the truth.

That evening you listen with rapt attention as the news anchor explains Viskar's decision to blow up India's omnium . A picture of a large dome covering a desolate hill where the omnium stood hours ago is shown beside the anchor.

"That's not gonna cut it. I wouldn't trust any amount of their glowy light shields to hold in that much radiation." Torbjörn says quietly.

Noone responds to him. You don't think he wants anyone to.

Despite the fact you've been fighting them for multiple weeks now, the thought of the attacks stopping because the omnics are scared somehow saddens you somewhat.

You think about Bastion and Zenyatta as you fall asleep that night.

A few days go by without any sign of an attack. You watch the city fall back into its natural rhythm as you patrol the streets, a soft smile forming on your face.

Winston calls you back home before the week ends.

You manage to find D.Va and say your goodbyes the day before you go.

"I'm gonna miss you, love. You're real nice to have around, in battle and out!" you tell her. It's true - she's had your back in combat ever since you met her and her presence helped keep your spirits up throughout your stay here.

"You're always welcome to watch my streams when you need a little bit of D.Va in your life, you know? My viewers love you, by the way, the chat went wild every time you appeared!" she says as she gives you a tight hug and right until she sends you off with one final wave and a wink.

You wake up the next morning and take one final look at yourself in the cracked mirror. You've grown to love that crack somehow.

The time in Korea hasn't changed your look much. Not that you really expected it to. Not that you expect anything to, you guess.

It's past six a.m. when you say goodbye to Korea.

It's a good day to change the world as any.

\--------

You don't quite grasp the scope of how much you've missed the base until you take your first breath inside. The air's fairly dustless. Did someone help Genji with the upkeep in your place? You wonder whether they mop-raced him.

You hope he kicked their ass.

Mercy chuckles at the way you bounce with joy as you walk into the base.

You turn the corner only to spot McCree near the entrance to the kitchen, coffee in hand.

His eyes widen as he looks at you, then at the coffee, then at you again, knowing exactly what comes next.

You run and leap straight at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders right as you hear the mug crash into the ground.

He smells like dirt and tobacco. You didn't know it was possible to scrunch your nose fondly until now. You've missed the cowboy.

"That there was a nice mug," he whines, his arms wrapped around you. You pull yourself back a bit and giggle at his exasperated face.

"This here is a nice mug." you say as you boop his nose. He laughs and you can't help but giggle along with him.

"Awe shucks, Tracer." You hear McCree say as you spot a familiar large figure walk out into the hallway in the distance.

You hear Reinhardt's booming voice yell your name as he steels himself into a pose that very clearly conveys the sentiment of "COME AT ME."

McCree sets you down and you're off before your feet even hit the ground, absolutely determined to give Reinhardt the strongest tackle he's ever seen.

He barely budges an inch. That's more than you expected. You're quite proud of yourself, really. Someday you'll knock him right over, you swear.

Reinhardt's laugh booms trough the air and soon you find yourself spun around, thrown into the air and caught again over and over as he enthuses about how great it is to have you back and how you must tell him all of your adventures.

The commotion in the hall brings out the other agents in the base and they soon find themselves aggressively hugged by you, one by one.

You linger on Zenyatta for a little longer than others, the sequence of events that led to your return worming their way into your mind. You don't let your smile falter.

"How is it that you give such amazing hugs, love?" You ask and listen to the echo of his laugh.

"He has about 10 extra arms, Tracer, what do you think it is?" a voice speaks from behind Zenyatta. You look up and get ready to jump at Soldier: 76, who fully expects you to.

You go on greeting everyone, running and jumping around with no hint of fatigue. You feel like you couldn't ever be tired again.

"Glad to have you back, Tracer," Winston says as you cling onto him as if it's been years. "Ana's sandwiches are great but they really aren't anywhere near your level." he adds in a quieter voice.

You hear Ana say "What was that now?" at the same time you manage to get out an "I've had a lot of practice, love," between laughs. "Doing something a hundred times really ups your skill. One round of breakfast for you is enough to make anyone a master." you add as you climb off the ape to go greet Ana.

You find Bastion curiously looking over the commotion from behind a door frame. You carefully wrap them in a hug, making sure they're okay with every little motion you make. You avoid sudden movements as best you can, not wanting to startle them.

They're not very good at hugs, you note as Bastion tries their best to wrap their arms around you. It doesn't bother you one bit. You'll give them lots of chances to learn.

You stay there for a good while, listening to soft little beeps and the sound of Ganymede flapping its wings as it circles you.

You're still a little wary about Junkrat and Roadhog, not sure how to greet either of them. Especially as Junkrat, with his soot and his seemingly eternally burning hair, is kind of a walking hug hazard.

"Oy, do I not get a turn then? I see how it is, mate, it's-- wait, get off me, you--" you hear as you brave the fire and soot and hug him anyway.

You're pleasantly surprised at how complaisant Roadhog is about the hug, going as far as to lean down slightly so you could actually reach his shoulders. He holds you from falling when he leans back up.

The last two to get greeted by you are Mei and Genji, who you find in the kitchen, adding finishing touches to a meal, the quantity of which suggests it to be for everyone here. You nearly burst in excitement.

You're a little impressed when Genji manages to both catch you as you leap at him and keep the plate he was carrying safe, not a drop of its contents falling. You hear a whistle of appreciation from the doorway.

"Yes, thank you," he says, setting the plate down to give you a proper hug."I don't take to wasting kitchenware as easily as you do, McCree."

"Aw, come on! That was different! You know, if..." You can't hear the rest of McCree's complaint over your own laugh combined with Genji's, Mei chuckling along in the background.

You watch everyone disperse themselves around the room from your spot on the floor as plates are handed out. You ignore the food for a little while in favour of watching the action in the room.

You watch Ana fuss over Pharah, mixing domestic and mission-related questions into one big mess as she tries to hear every detail of her daughter's life over the last few months.

You see Torbjörn excitedly retelling encounters to Soldier: 76 and Reinhardt, the latter occasionally interrupting with equal amounts genuine questions and jabs at Torbjörn's height. Soldier: 76 tries not to laugh and fails miserably every time.

You watch Zenyatta casually conversing with Genji, who's sitting on the kichen counter, looking the room over in the same manner you are, except without a cooling plate of food on his lap. Bastion occasionally beeps beside them.

You see Mei chatting with McCree and Mercy as she fills up plates for them.

To your right, Winston is listening to Lúcio recount his experiences on the mission. You join the conversation for a while when D.Va's brought up.

You feel warm inside long before you start eating your food.

"Wish I could've gone on that mission," Junkrat pipes up from his spot on your immediate right. "Never a bad time to explode some bots, eh, Roadhog?"

Roadhog nods, punctuating it with a grunt of agreement.

"I considered sending you," says Winston, suddenly joining the conversation. "but you were already on a different mission the the time. You were protecting an important payload and--"

"I know, I know! It's always payload this, payload that - I don't care, mate! I wanna get to blow something up for once!"

"...Please don't explode the payload."

Well, Vishkar's done enough exploding for the world now, your mind helpfully supplies. They've gone as far as to say they ended the second crisis single-handedly recently. And having seen attacks from the very east all the way to Russia cease as soon as Vishkar made their move, noone can really deny them.

At the very least, they've completely driven the media's attention away from Overwatch, giving Winston's nerves a break.

You don't let yourself dwell on it. You've got a meal to eat, friends to catch up with.

You'll have all the time in the world to think about it later.

You take another bite and smile as you watch Torbjörn's plate soar through the air, narrowly missing Reinhardt's head.

You're home.

\--------

It takes you a long look at a calendar and a considerable amount of math to confirm that it's been a year since the recall.

A year and one week, to be exact.

"Winstoooooon," you whine, plopping yourself down at the kitchen table next to him. "you missed the anniversary!"

Winston gives the calendar a long, scrutinizing look before letting out a tiny "oh". You watch a little smile appear on his face.

"Has it really been a year already?" Mei says, sitting down in front of you. "I can hardly believe it! It seems like I only came here yesterday, and yet here we are."

"It's too bad we missed the anniversary though. We could have done something - celebrated, partied, I don't know, lived a little!" You say, smiling back at Mei.

"You're lively enough as is, Tracer." Winston says fondly. You don't miss the way he keeps glancing at the calendar as if he can't believe it. You let him have his moment and make a mental reminder to let him know how proud you are of him later.

"We could still arrange something, I think." Mercy pipes up from her spot at the other end of the table. "Noone's out on any missions today, as far as I remember."

Winston looks a little reluctant.

"We could go to the beach," Mei nearly whispers and you're out of your seat in a flash, trying to convince Winston of what an incredible, stellar, absolutely perfect idea that is. Mercy and Mei occasionally back you up.

"I don't know, Tracer... It would come across as suspicious if a large group of us showed up at the beach all of a sudden. Your chronal accelerator isn't exactly easy to hide."

"Come on, Winston! I'll wear a big coat over it if i have to, I don't care! It'll be fine!"

Your pleading is interrupted when Lúcio pokes his head into the room. "What's this about the beach?"

Convincing Winston is a matter of seconds as soon as Lúcio joins your little pleading party. He has the most effective puppy-dog eyes and you're both incredibly thankful and somewhat intimidated by them. You'd never be able to refuse him anything, you realise.

You're bouncing with excitement as Lúcio whoops and runs out of the room, saying something about 'making a playlist real quick'. You can't wait.

You listen contently to the buzz of conversation as you make your way to the surprisingly secluded beach. The old wool coat you're wearing to cover your chronal accelerator is heavy and entirely too hot, but it doesn't hinder the spring in your step.

Winston looks at you and sighs, knowing full well you'll drop the coat and sprint as soon as you see water. You grin at him. You don't need to hear it to know what he's thinking - be careful, keep the accelerator safe, yadda yadda. You'll be fine.

You take one glance at the sea, turn to give Winston a wink and run off, letting the heavy coat fly trough the air.

It's hard to comprehend how so much has happened in one year, you think as you wade deeper into the sea, until it reaches your shoulders. You remember greeting Winston in a nearly empty base. Seeing your ranks increase by this much makes you really excited.

It's been a good year. You hope for a lot more like it.

You have an infinite amount of time to see a better year, you know. You just hope everyone stays around to see it with you.

You catch yourself thinking that you'd relive this year over and over if it meant staying with everyone. You shake yourself out of it. You have to move forward. They're all moving with you now.

You're snapped out of your thoughts as you feel yourself suddenly lifted above the water.

"Howdy there," says McCree, propping you onto his shoulders."Hope I didn't scare you too bad, but you gotta help me out with somethin'."

'Somethin' turns out to be beating the Reinhardt-Lúcio combo in a game of chicken. You take a moment to giggle at how small Lúcio looks on Reinhardt's shoulders before you get your game face on.

They're going down.

You stay in the water long after the sun goes down.

Today was a good day.

You hope for a million more like it.

\--------

It's six a.m.

The curtains flutter in the wind of the open window, but it's only when you stand up that you realize how chilly it is in the room. It doesn't stop you from getting out of bed, though it does raise momentary second thoughts. The cooling autumn weather doesn't discourage you.

It's a good day to change the world as any, after all!

You go trough your morning routine, pausing to look at yourself in the mirror.

The same as always, albeit with a big fluffy sweater stifling the light of the chronal accelerator.

You flash yourself a big hearty grin.

"Good morning, Athena!" you call out, running in place as you get ready to go.

"Good morning, Tracer."

You begin the morning jog. You make the usual mad dash for Pharah's room before you remember she isn't here today. You take a moment to remember exactly whose rooms you can skip today before continuing in the usual direction.

With Lúcio gone on the same mission, there's noone to keep you company as you move down the halls. Without anyone to race, you catch yourself moving in an uncharacteristically slow pace (which is still pretty fast for anyone else, to be fair). You skip down the hall, paying attention to the small details of the building you'd normally miss.

Such as the person standing near the kitchen window.

Your skip comes to a stop. You poke your head into the room quietly, as to not alert the figure of your presence.

It's Hanzo. You're very confused for a moment before you remember that he was brought here to base late last night after a lengthy mission to recruit him lead by Genji, of all people. You weren't entirely confident the mission was a good idea, having seen Genji's confidence falter as he paced around Winston's lab for weeks, unsure of what to say or how to phrase his thoughts, but Zenyatta assured you it was good for him.

You still aren't sure what to think of the guy. On one hand, you don't think you can forgive him for what he did to Genji. On the other hand, Genji clearly has, going as far as to bring him here himself.

"I know you are there," he says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Well, you might as well get to know him then!

"Sorry, love, didn't mean to sneak on ya! I was just curious why you're up so early. They brought you in mighty late yesterday, didn't they?"

The scowl on his face is clear. "That is none of your business."

Nevermind then. Someone's not feeling their morning best. For all you know, at least.

"Alrighty then." you shrug. An idea strikes you all of a sudden."Say, has anyone given you a tour of the place yet?"

His scowl persists as he shakes his head. You're starting to think that might just be his resting face.

"I could show you around while I wake everyone then! I'll even go super slow so you could keep up, promise." you say with a grin.

You hear him sigh as he realises you're not letting him get out of this. "Fine," he shrugs. You whoop as you walk up to the fridge and grab the plate of sandwiches from inside. You shake off the usual myriad of post-it notes designed to keep anyone else from eating them and turn to Hanzo. "Come on, then!"

It's nice to have company on your morning stroll, even if you have to move at a snail's pace ('the speed of polite' 76 calls it, every time you so much as grumble about it) for them to keep up.

You skip the doors of Soldier: 76, Mei and Reinhardt, who are also absent today, only stopping to show Hanzo which room is whose.

"I don't see how knowing this is necessary," he says. "I have not met any of the people you speak of."

"Oh, you'll meet them, don't worry! Everyone here is pretty great." you assure him. "Come on now, let's move!"

Hanzo waits at the door as you wake Mercy, who assures you she's had a proper amount of sleep. She smiles when you ask again, just to be sure. You trust her word, even if you know how well she can fake her smiles.

But even you can clearly see her smile morph into something entirely more forced as she politely greets Hanzo on her way out.

You can also tell Hanzo's aware of the resentment in the air as he curtly greets her back.

You move on, not letting him dwell on it.

"Could you hold this for me, love?" You ask as you hand the sandwich plate to Hanzo upon reaching McCree's door. "I've got a goofy cowboy face to doodle."

Sensing his confusion, you do your best to explain the reason behind your and McCree's post-it ritual. The confusion mostly persists. You shrug as you slap your little masterpiece onto the door.

"This might get a little loud," you warn Hanzo as you step into McCree's room and ready your lungs. "Rise and shine, love!"

You continue shouting as you hear unintelligible noises of protest. This goes on until he turns his head enough to be heard. You count that as progress.

"Can't a guy get a break for once? We weren't back until late yesterday," he grumbles. Oh, right, he was on the Hanzo mission, wasn't he. You wonder whether knowing McCree makes it easier or harder for Hanzo to understand the post-it ritual.

"No dice, love! Genji's up," you assume. You haven't actually gotten to him yet. "and he's the one that led the whole shindig!"

"But Genji's... a fancy cyborg an' all. His limbs don't need as much rest as these ol' guns of mine." he says, voice still drowsy.

"What are you on about now? Artificial limbs don't change the amount of sleep you need as far as I know, silly." you giggle. His excuses get pretty creative sometimes. You wonder how many variants of this Winston's heard by now. "Unless your brain's artificial, perhaps."

McCree mumbles something, still decidedly face down into the pillow.

"Would your prosthetic arm not account for an hour less of sleep by that logic?" Hanzo says, suddenly poking his head into the room.

And suddenly, McCree is awake. You watch him sit up and plop his hat onto his head in record speed. You weren't aware he could even move that fast.

"Howdy," he drawls at the same time Hanzo says "Pardon the intrusion."

No sooner does Hanzo dissapear back into the hallway than you her McCree hiss out a "What's he doin' here?"

The look on his face makes you snicker. "I'm giving him a tour of the base, love."

"Aw. I was kinda counting on showin' him around later..." he says, voice distant and dreamy.

Oh.

Oooooooooh.

The realization must have shown on your face, because you get interrupted before you've even begun saying anything.

"No, Tracer," He whines. You aren't sure what he means but the way he says it is cracking you up even more.

"I'm sure he'd love another tour later, love," you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him. "a private tour, perhaps."

You hear his head hit the pillow with a groan. You continue giggling.

"I'll put in a good word for you, cowboy!" you wink at him. "Now get out of bed, you lazy oaf!"

And with that, you're out of the room.

You find Hanzo waiting for you a few steps down the hall. You take the plate of sandwiches off his hands before moving on.

"This will absolutely get a little loud, love." you warn him when you reach Torbjörn's room. "You might want to step back a tad."

You take a deep breath and begin the arduous process of waking Torbjörn. In your peripherals you spot Hanzo take one more cautionary step back. You don't blame him.

You gracefully dodge the water bottle that gets hauled at you. "We're done here!" you tell Hanzo as you leave the room. He looks as if a million questions have popped into his mind. He chooses not to voice any of them.

You run into Zenyatta as he's leaving his room. You greet him with a smile. "Good morning!"

"Greetings, friends." He turns to Hanzo."It's very nice to see you getting acquainted with the base."

Hanzo nods, but doesn't say anything. His face conveys a mix of emotions you can't decipher.

"Genji and I will be meditating in the third floor balcony. You're free to join us if you wish." Zenyatta continues.

"Oh, is Genji already up then?" you ask. Zenyatta nods. "I'll say hello to him later then, we've got a tour to finish now!"

Hanzo says nothing as you part ways with Zenyatta. You sense a slight bit of disdain on Hanzo's face. You choose not to comment on it, instead blabbing away about nothing in particular.

You poke your head into a recently joined D.Va's room only to see her awake, hunched over a screen of some sort.

"Hana!" you say, exasperated. "Again?"

"I can't help it! These skills don't build up overnight, you know? I need to get my practice in. Can't risk falling behind!"

"But you need to get some sleep in too, love! This is the third time in a row I've found you like this!" It's true. Within the few weeks she's been here after Lúcio convinced her to join, you've found her in this position too many times to not be worried.

"God, you're starting to sound like Dad 76. Don't worry, I'll get some sleep, eat my greens, do my homework, whatever. I got this, okay?"

You nod and let her go, but you make a mental note to check on her later. She needs to get proper sleep more than anyone - what if she's suddenly needed on a mission?

God, you really are starting to sound like 76.

You shake yourself out of it and make your way towards Winston's room, Hanzo in tow.

You prod Winston off his usual paper pile and put down the plate of sandwiches for him.

"Thank you, Tracer," he says, picking up a sandwich. "and thanks for showing Hanzo around, as well. I was going to send someone after breakfast but you beat me to the punch, as always."

You turn around and begin to make your way out of the room before he speaks up again.

"Oh, and Hanzo?" he waits a moment until the archer turns to face him "Once again, welcome to Overwatch. It's an honor to have you here with us."

Hanzo gets welcomed in true Overwatch fashion - by a space gorilla with a mouth full of sandwich.

"...Did ya think all those were for me?" you joke as you walk back trough the hall.

"Honestly, it would not have been a surprise considering the 'routine' you have shown me so far." he responds.

You giggle until you reach the next stop.

"This right here, love, is the most monumental stop of all! This is where every day begins and every night ends, with a healthy dose of action in between." you explain, gesturing to the door theatrically. "This right here is truly the apple of the base's eye. A true sanctuary. Breath-taking. Extraordinary."

Hanzo raises an eyebrow as you dramatically reach for the door handle.

"Just kidding, it's my room! Hahah." His shoulders drop as you keep giggling to yourself. You're hilarious. "Feel free to pop in anytime you'd like, love!"

You move onto the next stop, which happens to be Bastion's space. Bastion declined every room they were offered, preferring to hole up in the little balcony near your room.

"Does it require waking up?" Hanzo asks when you explain this to him.

"No, but they like being acknowledged. Good morning, Bastion!"

A pleasant chorus of beeps and various bird noises is the response you receive. You take a moment to appreciate both the collection of potted plants the omnic has managed to fit into the balcony and the group of birds that have seemingly landed on the railing to check out said plant collection.

You wish Bastion a good day before you move on.

You watch your step as you walk into Junkrat and Roadhog's shared room (noone really questioned them declining separate rooms. One room being sacrificed to clusterfuck fate is enough), carefully avoiding touching anything in case it explodes. You lightly tap Roadhog's shoulder with a soft "good morning" and carefully move back as he goes on to wake Junkrat. You learned early on that loud cheering is not the way to wake these two. Their survival reflexes are good, you'll give them that. You're just glad your reflexes are good too.

"Oy, who's that there?" Junkrat asks, clearly pointing at Hanzo. "Think I would've remembered a tattoo like that."

No, he wouldn't have, his memory's shite, you think to yourself. The look you share with Roadhog tells you you aren't the only one to think something along those lines.

"This is Genji's brother, Hanzo. He's new here, so watch it with the explosions, would you?" No, he wouldn't, your mind instantly answers your own question. You glance at Roadhog again. You vaguely hear Hanzo mumble a greeting.

"'Fraid I can't see the resemblance," Junkrat says, giving Hanzo a look over. "Take it as a compliment, mate! Isn't Genji the omnic ninja bloke? Nearly cut me good arm off the other day, the metal cunt..."

You remember that. Junkrat not-so-discretely threw a bomb at Zenyatta during a mission and Genji got a little upset. Rightfully so, you think.

The mission never quite got back on track after Reinhardt had to focus on pulling them apart instead of securing the payload. You vaguely remember Soldier: 76 doing something akin to grounding them to their rooms that day.

"Genji's got just a heart just as human as you, you know! More human than you, I'd wager." You catch yourself saying, voice angrier than it should ever be this early in the morning.

"Fat load of good that's done him - a recycled pile of scrap's still a pile of scrap! I'd rather eat one of me good bombs than become one of them." he says with a cackle.

You open your mouth to argue back, then abruptly remember Hanzo, who's standing behind you, eyes pointed at the floor. The expression on his face is darker than any you've seen so far.

Guilt, you realise.

And you thought waking Mercy had gone badly.

You take a breath and willfully ignore the junkers' nonsense in favor of the tour you haven't finished.

"Let's go, Hanzo. We've still got a good bit of base to cover." you say, tugging him along by the sleeve.

You try lightening the mood with mindless chatter as you show him around the rest of the base, but Hanzo mostly stays pointedly quiet.

The brisk walk to Ana's room is punctuated by your voice as you do your best to fill Hanzo in on who she is.

"Good morning, Ana!" you cheer as you enter her room, coaxing Hanzo in with you. "I brought a guest!"

"Oh! Hanzo, yes? Ana Amari, nice to meet you." she says, giving him a handshake before putting on the kettle.

"This is the best spot in the base to have your morning cup of tea, love. It'd be real swell if you could join us today?" you ask and watch him instantly try to decline.

"No, no, Hanzo, I insist!" Ana says, cutting off whatever protest he'd manage to conjure. "You clearly haven't had any sort of drink yet - goodness, you're so pale! Sit down."

Ana's sweet voice is authoritative enough to sit anyone down, Hanzo included.

"How's your morning been so far? The tour's going well, I assume?" Ana asks as she passes a mug to each of you.

"Well, we've had our ups and downs, I'd say." you tell Ana when Hanzo predictably says nothing. You turn to him. "Don't take Junkrat's blabber to heart, alright? He can be a right arse sometimes."

"No," he says, looking firmly down at his tea. "he was right. Genji has changed so much because of what I've done. I do not know him anymore."

You set your cup back down on the table.

"The fact that he's changed doesn't mean he's any less of a person. He's just as great as you once knew him as." you respond.

"He was never great. He was never meant to lead the Shimada clan." Hanzo says, staring down the tea like it's offended his honor.

"Neither were you, evidently." Ana says, taking a sip of her drink. "Your brother sought you out and brought you both here to Overwatch. This is where you belong now, Hanzo. The clan is all in the past."

"He is no longer the brother I once knew." Hanzo speaks slowly, voice starting to shake slightly. He's good at hiding that, you note. "Genji is but a stranger to me now. And he has led me into this group of even more strangers. A group in which I do not belong. I can tell am not wanted here."

There's a moment of tense silence. Ana sips her tea.

"Well, you're not a stranger to me anymore, Hanzo." you break the silence. "You've gotten to know me quite well during today's tour, haven't you? And I don't know about anyone else but I sure want you to stay here with us."

The silence is so strong that the sound of Ana putting down her cup rings loud and clear.

"You forget, Hanzo, that Overwatch is a group that is very much comprised mostly of misfits. We've all had out mistakes. Hell, some of us wear them proudly every single day," Ana says, subtly pointing at her eyepatch." but we move past them together. You are not beyond redemption, Hanzo. You were brought here for exactly that. Because someone has faith in you. We all do."

"And the world could always use more heroes, after all." you smile.

The three of you drink tea in silence. Hanzo looks contemplative.

"Do you think I could finish that tour of yours, love?" You say a little while after your teacup's become empty. "I haven't shown you outside the base yet. And the weather's rather nice today, I think..."

Hanzo stays silent for a little while. He takes the last sip of his tea. "Fine." he says.

You walk Hanzo around the base, making small talk as you go.

"I can help you open the kitchen window open if you still feel like leaving," you say, having realised what he was trying to figure out when you found him this morning. "but we'd always keep it open in case you wanted to return, alright?"

"Why are you being so placating to me? You know Genji well. You all know what I have done."

You do. You know you disagree with him on a lot of things. You know he's done a lot of things wrong. But you also know he's your teammate now and so you trust him. You smile.

"You're a teammate to me now, no matter what you or anyone else thinks. Even if it takes some a long time to warm up to you, I'll be there supporting you every step of the road, wherever you want to take it." You wink at him.

You return to base. He knows where all the exits are now. He's free to leave.

He doesn't.

You grin at him when you greet him in the mornings, watching him fumble about the base, still wary and distrusting of every little corner. He's got a long way to go.

You'll be here to see every step of it.

\--------

Less than half of the next few months are spent at base, as missions come up faster than you can count them. And you are known to do everything fast , counting included.

You learn to write yourself a note every time you give Soldier 76 the usual morning status report instead of fruitlessly attempting to memorize it all.

Barely any time passes after the sudden cease of omnic attacks before anti-omnic protests break out across the globe, some growing more violent than others.

You see more and more omnics hide themselves away from the anger aimed at them as you patrol streets around the world. Anger they do not deserve for something they were not a part of, you think. Your mind recalls images of Korea, memories of leading the occasional omnic civilians to safety just like human ones.

Tensions over the subject escalate with every protest, every attack. You occasionally hear of omnic groups desperately trying to fight back, both peacefully and using violence, every story ending with their loss - distinctly outnumbered.

Tensions escalate at base as well. The stress of constant missions wearing down on everyone makes the debates (which used to pop up occasionally in a more civil manner before) often turn into ugly screaming matches, requiring someone else to intervene and cool things down.

You work your hardest not to let your optimism falter, even as you find yourself at odds with friends. Even as you hear Winston's leadership questioned over and over, his stance on the issue having been made clear at the start.

Even as you see Torbjörn, eyes full of fury, lob a knife from the kitchen table at Zenyatta, who had deliberately been avoiding taking part in the conversation at breakfast.

Deep breath, cheery smile, you remind yourself every time you approach an omnic during your missions. you don't let your smile falter when you see most of them keep their distance in fear.

Talon involvement becomes a controversial topic as they make more and more appearances,bringing the violence aspect of the protests up by a large margin. A familiar silhouette occasionally catches your attention.

"Don't you see it's wrong, what you lot are doing?!" you catch yourself yelling at Widowmaker once, completely dropping the usual tone of wit you usually bring to these mid-battle conversations.

"I do not question it. I kill who I am told to. It makes little difference to me." she responds, facial expression unchanged.

It takes many, many deep breaths and a good does of fighting to quell the anger her response inexplicably brings out in you.

The anger returns as a news report shows a politician's face receiving a very familiar bullet as soon as he says one word against omnic discrimination.

Deep breath, cheery smile, Tracer.

You keep the smile up for Ana, who questions whether you're tired over morning tea.

You keep the smile up for Bastion, who seems more keen to avoid everything in favour of their balcony plants more than ever. For Zenyatta, whose aura of serenity and hope doesn't falter, except for when it does. For Genji, who delves into meditation more than ever.

You keep the smile up for Winston, assuring him you support every decision he's made. For omnic civilians as you keep fighting for their sake.

You keep the smile up for yourself as you look at the mirror in the morning.

If there's a day as any to change the world, it's today, you think, determination burning within you.

You let that determination shine trough your eyes as you blink yourself froward trough the streets.

You come back home from a mission one day only to see Lúcio twirling Bastion around carefully as they dance around in the kitchen, Bastion's beeps syncing to the rhythm just as well as Lúcio's voice.

You stay at the doorway for a long time, not wanting to disturb the pure happiness the scene radiates.

You feel guity for interrupting when you hear Lúcio call your name after he notices you. The dancing slows to a stop.

As Bastion shyly extends a hand towards you, inviting, you realise you will never understand why some consider omnics less lovable than humans.

You dance your heart out as the music courses through you, drowning out your thoughts.

\-------

You spot her silhouette on a familiar rooftop in King's Row.

You skip the greeting, rushing towards her with a blink added in for good measure.

You try your best to beat her to the punch, hoping luck is on your side.

Judging by the way today's gone so far, it really isn't.

There was a distinct weight that left you slowly as anti-omnic protests decreased in frequency over the past few months. You felt lighter on your feet as omnics and supporters found their voice and worked towards protecting omnics in society.

You were especially full of hope today, although perhaps not as airy in your step, as you and some other agents made your way to King's Row.

Today is the one year anniversarry of the death of Tekhartha Mondatta. Crowds of people and omnics stood in the very same street in front of the very same building, gathered to honour his memory.

You watched the omnics among the crowd, elated to see them standing proud, hope replacing the fear instilled in them by recent events.

The murmur of the crowd softened as an omnic walked out on stage, beginning her speech. The speaker, known as E-sphere, had gained notoriety after solely talking down a protesting crowd in France. Quickly having become one of the main faces of the current omnic right movement, she had quickly inspired many to take her side after making multiple appearances in various media outlets, her melodic and thought-out words striking a chord in the hearts of viewers everywhere(you yourself may or may not have written her some fan-mail, even).

Said melodic voice managed to get about two sentences into a speech before an explosion interrupted her.

Turning your head to the source, you found rubble piled up where a street stood a moment ago. A street that was the main entrance and exit to this area, you realized as sound of panic filled your ears.

Your head snapped back to the stage and your eyes widened as you recognized some newcomers to the crowd, wheeling in a large object before blocking another path.

Talon.

Commotion filling your ears, you managed to make out a whole 4 words over the comm before you sprung into action. Bomb. Countdown. Civilians. Safety.

This brings you to your current situation, as you blink yourself onto an adjacent roof, jumping down to fight Widowmaker.

You remember the way your last meeting here went. You're not going to let that happen again.

You blink yourself into her, hoping the tackle will be enough to offset the trajectory of the shot she fires.

You spare a glance at the podium as Widowmaker rolls, dodging the brunt of your attack. You don't see E-sphere. You hope that means she's safe.

"No greeting, chérie? How very impolite of you." she says, straightening her stance. You don't let her line up a shot before you charge straight at her.

"What's really impolite is coming to a party like this uninvited."

Whatever edge of surprise you were expecting from the charge disappears a moment too soon, as you crash into the side of Widowmaker, who is already mid-turn.

"It's worked out for me before."

You spot her elbow a second too late move your hands out of the way. You hear your pistol skid on the ground as a follow-up rifle jab knocks the second one out of your hand.

You dash to the side, managing to get around, reaching the wall behind her. You kick at her side, hoping to offset her balance. It kinda works - the shot she fires flies trough the air, nowhere near you.

She lines up a better shot and catch yourself instinctively recalling back before you realise what a bad idea that is.

You're terrified as you realise you've just given a sniper room to aim.

You're even more terrified when she leaps right at you instead. You're knocked onto your side, Widowmaker pinning your arms down.

You try to squirm free to no avail. The accelerator can't do anything, you just used it a second ago.

This is how you die, you realise as you meet the gaze of Widowmaker, whose eyes have been on you the entire time, unblinking.

You look straight at her, refusing to close your eyes in the face of certain death. The moment drags on a lot longer than you'd expected and you wish you'd used it for a witty quip or something.

Yes, this is how you die. Gunless, pinned, and regretting unsaid wits.

There's an odd look in Widowmaker's eyes as you feel her shift.

There's a sharp pain in your head.

Everything goes black.

\--------

You wake up to the familiar ambiance of a jet mid-flight.

Your head doesn't feel quite right.

The silence makes you assume you're alone, until you crack open an eye and notice the 4 other figures, eyes pointed distinctly downwards in dead silence.

You look up and realise you're resting on the lap of a 5th person.

"Oh, you're awake. Good." Mercy says, the smile on her face weaker than usual.

You shouldn't be awake, you realise as your memory catches up with you.

"What happened?" you ask, sparing a look at the others, who are still uncharacteristically quiet. Even if some of them seem to be in quite bad shape, you didn't think it was possible for a group that included Torbjörn, McCree, Soldier: 76 and Reinhardt to be this quiet.

You look back up when something warm taps the side of your face. Mercy's face is streaked with tears.

"We failed," she rasps.

\--------

You keep a smile on your face and your routine in place as the tense silence around base slowly dissipates over the following few days.

The amount of volatile arguments during lunchtime goes down by a large margin, most of them now dissolving within one or two sentences, giving way to more mindless chatter.

There's only so much silence you can really have in a base full of loud personalities.

An outsider would think nothing had happened unless they felt the air tense every time Overwatch is brought up on the news.

Barely half of the crowd got to safety that day, the reports say. With every day of E-sphere's location remaining unknown, the unsaid implication of her death gets more prominent.

You'd be happier to see both omnic right activists an anti-omnic protesters agree on something if it wasn't the condemnation of Overwatch's involvement in the events.

You can hear Winston's heart cracking under pressure as the anti-omnic side berates Overwatch for helping the omnics.

You can hear his heart outright shatter as the omnic right supporter side berates you all for not helping enough.

"Geez, you'd think we bombed the place with the way they speak of us." you hear D.Va say once, watching the screen beside you. "Do you think Talon's pissed we stole their spotlight?"

"I don't really want to think about Talon right now," Winston nearly whispers.

You remember the promise you wrote for him a while ago. You realise you need to prove the world wrong now more than ever.

"Don't waste yourself thinking about it all," you start. A lot of eyes are on you all of a sudden. "we made some mistakes. Everyone here's made mistakes before, right? And here we still are." you look over to Ana for a second. "We have a long future still ahead of us, we can't sit here and dwell on what's passed like a bunch of soggy worms after a rainstorm! We've got a whole world to prove wrong - that's a goal if I've ever heard one!"

You smile when the cacophony of voices that respond at once sound much more cheerful than before ("I like challenges" from D.Va and "Let's try to stick together this time" from Mercy is all you manage to accurately pick out. "Hey, I like the sound of that!" you hear Lúcio say as he prompts a high-five from Mercy).

Keeping people's spirits up is what you're here for, after all!

Only when you're alone in the dead of the night or in the chill of the morning do you let the events rewind themselves piece by piece trough your mind.

The clear sound of reluctant footsteps back into base.

The rasp of Mercy's voice as she explained what happened to you.

The way the group apparently fell apart, each maintaining their own path to handling the situation to be the best - Torbjörn and Soldier 76 trying to clear an exit, Reinhardt attempting to push the bomb away instead. Mercy trying to rally everyone as she went straight for E-sphere. McCree chasing down Talon agents present in the crowd.

You, choosing to stop Widowmaker's inevitable attempt to snipe E-sphere during the commotion.

The unspoken shame in everyone's faces on the ride home as you thought about having to explain this incredible feat of teamwork you all managed to attain to Winston.

The look in Widowmaker's eyes right before she knocked you out without causing any sort of serious injury.

The fact that she didn't kill you when she easily could have. When she probably should have.

You close your eyes and wipe any sort of lingering thought from your head. You should really go to sleep. You've got an early morning tomorrow.

You've got an early morning every day, as long as everyone at base needs your morning cheer.

As long as the world needs to be proven wrong.

\--------

Along with keeping up your morning routine, you take to observing the routines of others as missions start getting handed out, slowly but surely easing the base into its usual rhythm.

You notice the way Hanzo often quietly shuffles around the kitchen long before you've even begun your morning jog, looking like he's been awake for hours.

"Can't sleep, love?" you ask, sitting down onto the table in front of him. "Me neither." you admit when he avoids answering.

You make him a cup of tea and watch him scowl as you guess his tea preferences completely wrong.

You learn the way Hanzo likes his tea pretty quickly at the cost of losing the race against Pharah's alarm a couple times. You learn bits and pieces about Hanzo on the days you wake up early enough to sit down and chat with him before running around the base. You also learn to invite him to have tea at Ana's on days when you run late.

He doesn't take your offer up very often, but you learn to appreciate it even more when he does.

You memorize the schedule Bastion sticks to when watering their plants. You catch yourself watching them as they move trough the base to refill their watering can (you don't remember seeing it before. It must be a gift), careful not to spill a single drop onto the ground.

You casually offer to keep the watering routine up for them while they're out on missions once and can't stop yourself from smiling at the pure happiness conveyed by the beeps and boops they respond with.

You try your best to join Genji and Zenyatta in meditation. You manage to sit still for a grand total of 7 minutes once, which you consider to be an achievement. You switch to occasionally joining them in the evening instead, when you don't feel like you're interrupting their vibe.

"Do not be discouraged by your disaccord with this type of meditation. There are many ways to allow one's mind to rest." Zenyatta tells you when you jokingly jab at your incompetence at meditation one day.

You think back to that once you start joining Pharah on her afternoon jog. Your mind comfortably drifts off as you let your legs work for you, tapping the ground in a nice, consistent rhythm.

Afterwards, you follow Pharah into the kitchen and watch her prepare the usual cup of coffee as you let your legs rest.

You watch as she picks the cup up and carries it out of the room. You send her off with a cheeky wink and a grin. "Tell Mercy I said hi, alright?"

She lets out some unintelligible sputters before ducking out of the room.

You make sure to bring Mercy a cup of coffee in Pharah's stead when she's out on missions.

"I'd offer to pass on a smooch, too, but I don't think it'd be as nice as Pharah's, would it?" you tell her as you hand the cup over.

"Wait, as nice as whose now?" Ana's voice rings out from Mercy's little infirmary, where she's apparently recovering after her last mission.

Oh.

Oops.

You offer a quick "sorry" to a wide-eyed Mercy before dashing away.

You later get used to Ana occasionally giving Pharah the classic "What a nice girl, when's marriage, I'd like some grandkids" speech in between her usual fussing.

You take time to listen to Mei enthuse about various scientific articles as you help her clean up after lunch. A lot of what she says is difficult for you to comprehend but it sounds utterly fascinating when she says it.

"Can your sciences explain why this coffee maker stops working only when I desperately need a cup?" Torbjörn cuts in once, not lifting his glare off the offending coffee maker.

Mei barely manages to open her mouth before another voice interrupts.

"Can your sciences explain why our Swedish friend here is so short and angry?" Reinhardt asks before erupting into raucous laughter.

"Can her sciences explain my fist in your face?!" Torbjörn responds, the glare moving from the coffee maker to Reinhardt. The coffee maker seems as relieved as an inanimate object can be.

"No! Your puny hands reaching this height would be an unforeseen phenomenon!" is the response, followed by even louder laughter.

You hear Mei giggle along with you as Torbjörn lunges at Reinhardt, starting a scuffle. You'd be surprised at how well Torbjörn holds up, considering the comical height difference, if this wasn't a common sight.

You'll ask Mei to finish whatever she was saying another time, when the boisterous guffawing isn't there to drown out literally every other sound in the vicinity.

You feel bad for the coffee maker, which stays ignored even as it inexplicably starts working all of a sudden.

You get used to occasionally seeing Junkrat in Winston's lab when you bring the ape an afternoon snack.

You remember having an oddly civil conversation with Junkrat when he expressed genuine curiosity in your chronal accelerator. You explained the basics and told him to ask Winston about it.

You didn't expect him to actually do it.

You sometimes stay and listen to Winston fumble through explaining various doodads here and there when Junkrat asks. You instinctively stay back the times when you see Junkrat himself working on something in tandem with the ape.

You start bringing an extra sandwich for Junkrat when you make the usual trip to the lab.

"Thanks, mate!" he says, putting down whatever he was holding in favour of picking up the snack. You feel slightly bad for the bread, seeing the perpetual layer of soot from Junkrat's hands tarnish its last moments.

"Say, could ya bring one of these to Roadie for me?" he says as you're on your way out. You shrug. You guess you're making another sandwich then.

You find Roadhog reading a book in his room.

"Delivery!" you say, plopping the plate down on the table in front of him. "Gave one to Junkrat earlier and he asked me to give you one too, so here I am. I'll take that to mean my sandwiches are top class."

Roadhog nods with a muffled "Thanks."

You watch him put away his book as you begin turning towards the door. You pause.

"That's a cute bookmark you've got there, love." you say leaning over to get a better look at it. It's a little cardboard bookmark with a cute piggy design. That's sweet.

He nods. he doesn't say anything else and you take that as your cue to leave and let him eat in peace.

He has more than one, you realise next time you bring him a snack (you even prepared it in advance this time) and notice a different, but equally adorable design poking out of his book.

Big guy likes cute bookmarks then.

You come back from a mission one day with a little piggy keychain in hand.

"It reminded me of the little guys on the bookmark you use,"you say as you hand it over to Roadhog. "and you coudln't really look at eyes like these and say 'no, I won't buy you', could you?"

You watch him carefully take it from your hand. You think you hear a laugh behind that mask, marginally softer than the wheezing guffaws you'd heard from him before. He puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Thank you."

"No problem, love! Treat her well." you say, booping the keychain's snout one last time. You resist the urge to boop Roadhog's mask.

"Oy, what's this now?" Junkrat says, suddenly appearing from behind Roadhog. "you tryin' to bribe Hog or something?"

"Aw, are you jealous I'm treating him better than you do? Try harder, love!" you dash away, laughing as Junkrat yells after you (something to do with explosions, you're sure).

You join Soldier: 76 as he relaxes near the tv in the lounge on some days. You make the mistake of saying you don't really understand the way American football works once and since then he's taken to explaining every sport on tv in great detail.

"I know how tennis works, daaaad!" is a phrase you never thought you'd say, yet here you are.

He gets noticeably more quiet when basketball is on. You don't bring it up.

You let D.Va and Lúcio rope you into playing Mario party with them one evening. You only realise what a bad idea that was when you have to wake everyone after a whopping 2 hours of sleep the next morning.

You'd be lying if you said you never repeat that mistake. You'll beat her this time, you swear.

You wander into the kitchen one night after spending hours unsuccessfully trying to will yourself to sleep only to realise someone's already there.

The lack of a hat makes it more difficult to tell, but you're fairly sure you recognize who that is.

"It's literally opposite of high noon, love. Why are you still up?" you ask, approaching McCree where he stands at the window. "Can't sleep?"

"Not a wink." he responds.

"Me neither."

You pause as you take a look trough the window. The moon is shining almost as bright as the chronal accelerator on your chest.

"You know, I've had a very similar conversation here recently, now that I think about it." you say. "Please don't tell me you hang about here like this nearly every night."

"Hate to disappoint you, but... Sleep don't always come easy." he responds. "I've never seen noone else but you here though. You sayin' we got more kitchen insomniacs in our little group?"

"I'm at least glad neither of you hangs around here long enough to bump into each other then," you say with a soft giggle. "Hanzo likes to hang about here for hours in the morning. You'd have noticed by now if you actually managed to get your lazy arse out of bed earlier!"

You see his eyebrow's rise in your peripherals.

"Well ain't that an incentive." he says, looking off into the distance, same as you.

"Are you thinking of becoming an early-bird now, lover-boy? Actually getting out of bed before that favoured high noon of yours?" you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at him. You haven't let up on teasing him about his thing for Hanzo. That's what he gets for not letting you live down your failed Torbjörn-waking.

"Honestly, I just might be. Can't have you guys gossipin' behind my back while I'm sleepin'." he shrugs, playing nonchalant. You smile.

"Make him tea, if you ever get here first." you say. "Green. One sugar."

He better appreciate that knowledge. For something so incredibly simple, it took you a considerable amount of guessing and roundabout questioning to figure out.

"I will." he says. There's a long pause before he speaks again. "Thanks, Tracer."

"No problem, love."

You talk for a little while longer before a yawn reminds you you've got an early morning tomorrow. Well, every day, really. You watch McCree echo your yawn (the contagious nature of yawns helps in this case, you think) before you say goodnight and head back to your rooms.

You don't meet Midnight McCree very often from then on, but the occasional times it happens go similarly to that: you talk for a while until one of you yawns, signaling bedtime.

You skip morning your morning chat with Hanzo a few days later when you poke your head into the kitchen only to see a certain cowboy already occupying your usual seat, coffee in hand.

You watch Hanzo sip his tea without scowling.

You quietly dash away to Pharah's room. Your job here is done.

Onto the next one you go.

\--------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops occasionally.

The first time it happens you momentarily stop yourself from the usual salute, not sure how to approach this knowing the way your last meeting went.

The world feels surprisingly still for a moment. Then you hear the familiar whizz of the greeting bullet and the world is moving again.

You grin, bringing your hand up for a salute.

The dance begins.

"Wasn't sure whether to bother you today, love!" you say over gunfire. "Last time went a bit pear-shaped, didn't it?"

"For you, perhaps. It was quite a feast, not every trap gets so wonderfully overfilled with vermin as that one. I had a nice time." She responds, both in words and in bullets.

"I'd say, love! You were in such a jolly mood that you even let one of those vermin go!" You find an opening between shots to point at yourself (which is obviously the best way to use an opening). "Why did you spare me, anyway? Sudden change of heart? If you still have one, that is."

"It simply would have been a waste of a bullet."

"Well, now you get to waste more bullets trying to catch me! Good luck with that, love, it's not happening ever again!" You yell, grinning as you dash back and forth, dodging everything that comes at you.

"We'll see about that." Widowmaker says, punctuating it by the usual deep cackle. It really loses its ominous edge once you've heard her melt into giggles and snorts, you realise. You kinda wish you got to hear that again.

Meeting Widowmaker goes similarly to that every time you meet her over the following months - you greet, you dance, you snark in between.

With so many people all over the world doubting you and the rest of Overwatch, it's oddly comforting to know that at the very least, Widowmaker trusts you to provide an interesting battle.

You do your best to deliver.

You also do your best to paint Overwatch in a good light along with your fellow agents. You work hard to prove yourselves to the world, and you work hard to ignore the amount of people and governments (especially the latter) who don't believe in you yet. They'll come around.

You do your best to work along with your team.

Well, except for when you run off after Widowmaker, you guess. Although you're quite convinced everyone accepts this behaviour as fact and works around it, leaving you mostly to yourselves.

Which is why the sudden appearance of an arrow at Widowmaker's feat one day completely knocks you off your rhythm.

You stop in your tracks for a second, watching Widowmaker dodge the arrows that follow.

"It's alright, Hanzo, I've got this." you say after turning on your communicator for the first time in forever. "Go cover the others, I'll handle this just fine!"

You vaguelly hear other voices call Hanzo over to themselves before you turn the comm off again.

There's a moment of stillness after Hanzo leaves. Then the duel begins again.

"Pardon the interruption, love. He's fairly new." you say once the usual rhythm's settled in.

"He's a persistent one, chasing me down all that way with those puny legs." Widowmaker smirks.

"Sniper pride, I guess." you shrug.

"That's your sniper?" She laughs. "And you wonder why Overwatch gets nothing done."

"Hey, we get plenty done, I assure you!" you retort, hoping the laugh might send her aim at least slightly off course. It doesn't.

You get the momentary impulse to ask a question. You go for it before your mind writes it off as a bad idea. "You know, we could always use more snipers in our ranks..."

"No," she responds before you even offer. "Never."

Well, you didn't really expect much of it, either way.

Somehow, her curt reply makes you more determined to ask again.

\--------

Although the media has mostly moved onto other things, the resounding disapproval of Overwatch remains stable, seemingly unaffected by the number of successful missions you've accomplished since then.

You don't let it get to you or anyone else - you speed through assignments with incredible focus, only stopping to cheer up Winston or to deliver a pep talk to anyone else who may not be feeling it.

The conflict surrounding omnics has grown again ever since the Mondatta memorial. You can't help but feel slightly guilty about it, seeing the conflict grow louder and more violent with each passing day.

For the first time in forever, a vague fear of the future fills you as tensions rise. And rise. And rise once more.

Until an 8.8 earthquake hits Peru and leaves the world in a standstill.

You arrive to the capitol of Peru nearly a day late, having been nearly on the opposite side of the world when it all happened. You make sure to keep a bright smile on your face despite how still and heavy time feels at that moment. You're feeling it more than the others, you assume, which vaguely makes you feel better - better you than anyone else. You can handle it.

You can handle anything time throws at you, you assure yourself. You don't mind that that's a lie.

The city radiates loss, grief and an oddly hopeful sense of admiration for Reinhardt, who's apparently made a name for himself by doing things like charging straight into danger, shielding citizens from rubble and single-handedly holding up a collapsing building before some had even realised the earthquake was happening.

You're glad the team that happened to be stationed here at the time of the catastrophe just happened to include Reinhardt.

Reinhardt, who lead the team through the panic, not once seizing up in fear.

Reinhardt, who continues to inspire Overwatch agents and others alike as he leads rescue efforts for survivors.

Reinhardt, whose thoroughly heroic presence paints hope into the eyes of civilians, omnic and human alike. Who shines like a lighthouse within the abyss, never stopping to blink for even a second.

Reinhardt, who laughs off Mercy's remark about 'overexerting himself, especially at his age'. "As long as the Earth so much as thinks of rumbling, I shall be there to hold it still!" he says, and everyone believes him unequivocally.

Reinhardt, who proudly bellows Overwatch's name whenever the opportunity arises, seemingly daring anyone to speak ill of it. Who directs the respect aimed at him over to all of Overwatch without hesitation.

Reinhardt, who goes seemingly sleepless for days on end, but still has enough energy to lift Winston in an enthusiastic hug at the very whisper of the words "Thank you" when welcomed back to base.

The future seems brighter than ever, you think as you stare at he calendar again. Two years now, it reads.

"We should go to the beach again." Reinhardt says after you try to express your gratitude for making the year's efforts all worthwhile. You grin.

"Can I be on your team this time, if we play chicken?" you ask.

"Of course, my friend!" he responds with a laugh.

You laugh along with him when he lifts you onto his shoulders, yelling about the beach as he runs through the halls.

You continue laughing as you gracefully lose the game of chicken, when everyone- from the McCree-Hanzo combo (you aren't sure what magic McCree used to talk Hanzo into this. The reluctant look on the latter's face keeps cracking you up), to the Winston-Lúcio and Roadhog-Junkrat teams that joined halfway, to the apparently unbeatable Soldier 76-D.Va team-up - gangs up to take you down first.

You laugh as you watch the sun go down, as if it were hiding in shame after seeing the enormous source of light proudly guffawing beside you.

It's been a good day, you think. Here's to a million more like it.

\--------

It's six a.m.

The sound of birds chirping outside your window is almost as loud as Lúcio's voice when he pokes his head into the room.

"Hey! You up for a race?"

Boy, are you ever! You flash him a big thumbs up before you sit up.

"Sweet! You do your thing then, I'll be in the kitchen." he says before disappearing into the doorway.

It's not every day that you sleep in long enough to get woken by Lúcio. Not that that makes your day bad, by any means. Quite the opposite.

After all, it's a good day to change the world as any!

You get trough your morning routine in record time, only pausing to look at yourself in the mirror.

Still the same as ever. That right there is the face of someone who's going to crush Lúcio in the morning race today.

You give yourself a confident grin.

"Good morning, Athena!" you shout, waiting to hear her reply before running off.

"Good morning, Tracer."

You poke your head into the kitchen and see Lúcio talking to Hanzo, whose usual scowl seems comparatively light. Noone can resist Lúcio's charm, you guess.

You beckon Lúcio to wait when he notices you. You take the time to make Hanzo the usual cup of tea as Lúcio continues talking to him.

"Aw, you should've said something! I make a sick cup of tea, y'know?" he says at the same time Hanzo says "This was not necessary.". If anything, you've really trained your ability to accurately decipher multiple speakers at once during your time in Overwatch.

"I'll have you know, love," you say as you open the fridge out of habit, forgetting that the usual plate of sandwiches isn't there today, what with Winston absent on a mission and all. "that I make the meanest cup of tea for Hanzo. Well, besides Ana, that is. And actually, I'm not sure - does McCree make a good cuppa?" you ask, suddenly turning to Hanzo.

Hanzo takes a sip before answering. "He adds entirely too much sugar."

You giggle at that. "Of course he would." you say. You continue giggling as you remember a distinctly scowl-less Hanzo drinking McCree's over-sweetened tea. Well isn't that just sweet, for lack of a better word.

You and Lúcio wave goodbye to Hanzo and the race begins.

You realise you're glad to have Lúcio run trough base with you. Even if he beats you to most of the stops today. You take it as motivation to get better - he'll eat your dust, next time.

"Good race!" he says, offering a high five when you catch up to him near the last stop - Winston's lab. You give him the heartiest high-five you can muster and watch him disappear down the hall before you go into the lab.

Ana looks up at you from her seat and smiles before offering you tea.

With Winston out on a mission, Ana is the one leading the base in his stead, which is the reason you're having morning tea here instead of her room this morning. This is the first place everyone goes as soon as something goes wrong, after all, which makes it convenient for leadership purposes.

Ana does a fine job of being second-in-command,you think, often weighing in on decisions even with Winston present. Noone doubts her for a second, even if she might not have been the first choice - that mantle belonging to Soldier: 76, who continues to deny every opportunity to take over leadership of the base.

Speak of the devil, you think when your train of thought is interrupted by 76 stomping into the room before you even take your first sip of tea. If that's not a sign of a long day, you don't know what is.

"She's really done it this time," he grumbles as he passes a tablet to Ana. Your tea sits forgotten as you try to get a good view of the screen.

"Athena," Ana says, her eye not leaving the screen. "call Hana over for me, if you please."

"Korean gaming star in illegal Overwatch?" the headline on the screen reads.

You take a sip of your tea and wait for the discussion that will inevitably ensue. It is going to be a long day, then.

"That's a stupid headline. 'Gaming star'? That's the title I get? I fought in a war, for fuck's sake." D.Va says when the headline is shoved in her face as soon as she comes trough the door.

"Hana," 76 says in a warning tone. "This is a covert operation, you should--"

"I know! Geez!" she interrupts him. "I didn't mean for it to be this big of a deal, okay? Some assholes were spamming Winston hate - what was I supposed to do, let them shit on him?"

You give a look over to the article as you vaguely listen to the argument. 'Winston's not that bad, guys, he's just kind of a dork. He's a good boss though' the direct quote reads.

You're inclined to agree with Hana on this. Not just because of the Winston defense, while you do appreciate it a whole lot.

"What's the big deal? It's not like Overwatch has been all that subtle, anyway! The base has been an open secret for years! People are starting to support us again! Why should we be hiding?!" she goes on, voice rising in volume. The argument has basically devolved to the point where neither is listening to the other or to the occasional additions from you.

"This isn't the way this operation is run!" 76 yells.

"You run it just as much as I do, you geezer! Who are you to boss me around?!"

Jack opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. Ana takes this as her chance to interrupt, having spent most of the argument quietly looking at the plethora of headlines D.Va's latest stream has caused.

"Behave yourselves while I figure out a way to solve this, please." she says.

"There's no need to wait, I'll go solve this right now," D.Va says and runs off before anyone can say anything.

You wait for Ana's command to go after her. No such command comes.

"I'll make you another cuppa, then." You say, standing up to do just that.

\----------

Winston comes back a day later, instantly greeted by D.Va with her hands on her hips. Well, instantly after your usual greeting tackle, of course.

"Before you yell at me, this all started because of you, okay? I wasn't gonna let some spammers talk shit about you on my stream." she says as you're carefully set back down onto the ground.

"I, uh, wasn't going to yell at you. It wasn't on purpose and you handled the fallout better than I would have, I think." he responds.

D.Va stands still for a moment, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. She suddenly turns around and yells out a "Suck on that, Jack!", before extending her arms towards Winston. "Bring it in, DK."

You stop yourself from making it a group hug despite how much you want to. You allow yourself a wide grin though.

You'd spent the last few days hanging around Ana as you watched the situation develop. You watched news outlets race to be the first to write about D.Va's impromptu press conference stream. You watched them struggle to keep updating their reports as D.Va's stream went on, the contents of which could basically be gracefully summarized to "yeah, I'm Overwatch, deal with it, sorry, no games today, hahah I'm probably grounded jk, love u, buy my merch, bye".

You watched Overwatch discourse pop up everywhere you looked and you felt a smile cross your face when a considerable amount of it was positive. Waking up to see "OverwatchComeToBrazil" (OCTBR for short, apparently. Timely.) trending was an oddly nice experience. Especially after remembering how your last visit to Brazil went.

"You could've ruined your reputation," you hear Winston say when you eventually give into your group-hug urge.

"But I didn't though. I kinda improved yours, too. You can thank me for that, by the way."

"Oh, uh, yes. Thank you."

D.Va snorts. "Oh my god, Winston, you're so awkward. What would all of you do without me?"

What would you do without her, honestly.

Probably make a lot less media appearances, at the very least.

\--------

To say Overwatch gets a little more confident would be an understatement.

You run trough missions with a spring in your step, smiling as you watch other agents carry themselves proudly trough the streets. It's a real delight to watch everyone hide themselves less and less as support for Overwatch grows more and more vocal.

Even Bastion's beeps grow in volume, despite the mixed reviews Overwatch's omnic members receive.

The governmental disapproval doesn't budge, but it somehow feels like a much smaller problem than before, having attained the people's approval.

The people are the ones you're fighting for, after all.

The support becomes even louder once Lúcio decides to bring Overwatch to Brazil. Which is to say, he announces himself as a member in the middle of an impromptu concert on an impromptu stop in Brazil on the way back from a mission. Here's a guy that lives on the edge. You can respect that.

"I thought Hana was supposed to be the unpredictable problem child," 76 says, reclining on the couch as the sound of the TV fills the room. Lúcio's name can be heard once in a while.

"Lúcio's 29," you respond.

"He's about 5 feet tall. He's a baby as far as I'm concerned." he shrugs. You are about to respond with the usual 'dad' comment, but someone else speaks up before you finish giggling.

"Why would his height have anything to do with this?" Torbjörn pipes up from his seat at your left.

"Quit whining, you gnome baby." you respond and try to keep a straight face as you hear 76 snort. You take a moment to fully appreciate the look on Torbjörn's face as you hear a very distinct guffaw somewhere nearby.

You ready yourself for a high-five as Reinhardt pops into the room, jeering at Torbjörn between laughs.

"I'd appreciate if all of you babies quieted down for a bit, I'm trying to hear the TV," Winston murmurs from his seat on the floor and you can't stop the laugh that escapes you.

Winston really doesn't get a break with all of you around, does he.

In fact, even as everyone gets prouder of their Overwatch membership after a world leader casually drops their support of the organisation into a speech, Winston doesn't slow his workload, as the unchanged workpile in his lab shows.

You notice a copy of the Petras act and a few other documents among the usual science pile during a chronal-accelerator check-up one day.

"What's this now, love? Are you looking to become a lawyer?" you ask and then watch his hand twitch in surprise.

"Oh, uh. I've been practicing my diplomatic skills, I guess. Gaining a legal status would really help us in the long run, I thought, so..."

"So you decided to become a politician overnight? Impressive," you laugh. "you'd look good in a tie, love."

The documents don't disappear from the desk over the next few weeks. In fact, they seem to be multiplying, you note when you start counting them once in a while.

Winston reads trough them with such rapt attention what you don't have the heart to interrupt him for a break. You put down the plate of sandwiches you brought him, curl up next to him and immerse yourself in legalese along with the ape.

You'd stand by him if he suddenly decided to put his apparent 'diplomatic skills' to the test. Hell, you'd even drop a tie over your chronal accelerator if you had to.

He doesn't get the chance to try before a sudden resurface of omnic attacks in Russia takes up his attention instead. The papers rest forgotten as it becomes clear that Russia cannot handle the attacks alone this time around.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" 76 quietly asks Winston as the ape prepares to leave for Russia. "We weren't legally allowed to go to Russia back then, you know."

"Technically, we aren't legally allowed to go anywhere at this moment in time." he shrugs.

You mentally check whether you packed everything you'll need as you wait for Winston's command to get the others.

You bounce impatiently the whole way there, to a point where even Lúcio tells you to chill a couple times.

You can't wait to show the world what you've got.

\--------

"I think it's about time you showed off those promised diplomatic skills of yours, love." you say to Winston as you watch a stern Russian military officer make a beeline for your little group after the sounds of battle quiet down. To say the mission started with a bang would be an understatement, as attested to by your already tired legs, but the sight of soldiers letting out a sigh of relief as omnic forces retreat makes it all feel worth it.

"What are you doing here?" A stern, heavily accented voice asks. "I do not think monkey is native to Russian army."

"Not a monkey." you automatically correct him under your breath.

"We are a group of Overwatch--" is as far as Winston gets before the soldier interrupts him with a facepalm and what you assume is Russian for 'Oh god'.

"No, no, Overwatch, no. Is illegal. Leave." he goes on.

You look around and note that your entire little group is here now, instead of scattered all over the place. You hear Junkrat talking to Ana about something (you assume it's a topic of the explosive variety), the rest of you listening as Winston tries to persist, his speech occasionally interrupted by no's.

The phrase "Why is so that I, Evgeni Dima Medvedev, have to deal with your bullshit now?" knocks Winston out of his element for a little while.

"If, uh, if you're worried about the Petras act then I assure you--" he says, before he gets predictably interrupted again. You're kind of glad Junkrat isn't paying attention to this conversation - he'd have blown the soldier up by now. Or Winston. It depends.

"Petras? Not again Petras." he turns around all of a sudden, then hollers out a commanding "Petras!".

A scrawny soldier comes up to the general, obviously making an effort to stand up straight.

"Petras, what did you act?" the general asks, voice stern.

"I did not act, sir." the scrawny soldier answers. Winston looks like his soul's far gone by now.

"Of course you did not act, Petras, you useless Lithuanian worm." the general growls out. Petras looks like he wants to hide away and never come out. So does Winston.

You see Lúcio instantly move to comfort Petras. You look over at Winston, trying not to show concern in your eyes.

"This is not the kind of diplomacy I was expecting," he mumbles. That's okay, you've got him covered. This is exactly why you're here.

"You know, I'd bet'cha we'd be a lot more useful than Petras," you say.

("She didn't mean that" you hear Lúcio assure the guy.)

"Of course, no man in army less useful than Petras." General Medvedev says, exasperated. "But alright, I take you in. You be my..." he pauses, trying to phrase it in his head, presumably. "secret recruits."

You let out a little whoop of joy. Winston looks at you with pure gratitude. You give him a big grin and a hushed "I've got your back, love".

"Put these on." General Medvedev says, tossing a couple uniform hats and coats at you. "Monkey, have mask."

"Not a monkey." you automatically correct him once more.

The uniform coats are comically ill-fitted for your group. You button up the coat with confidence, used to wearing over-sized clothes to hide your chronal accelerator. You turn around and have to hold yourself from laughing at the way your teammates look.

Ana and Lúcio are completely dwarfed by the coats - Lúcio, specifically, looks like a very ambitious child trying on his mom's clothes.

Meanwhile, both Roadhog and Winston look rather constrained by the clothes, Winston seemingly reluctant to even raise an arm in fear of everything falling apart.

Although the measurements are technically best suited for him, Junkrat looks more ridiculous in the uniform than anyone. You have to look away from him to keep from bursting out laughing. You'll sass him later, when Medvedev isn't watching you intently.

You get the feeling Medvedev is always going to watch intently as you are walked to camp along with the rest of the soldiers.

"Gee, Winston, how come you've never call us secret recruits? It's a swanky title, isn't it?" you say, trying to distract yourself from the slow (for you, at least.) movement speed of the group.

"I guess I could, if that's really what you'd like?" he answers, voice muffled by the mask.

"Well, we're not exactly secret anymore, are we?" you smile at him. You don't need to see his face to know he's smiling back.

"You guys want some beats to keep you warm while we walk?" you hear Lúcio ask, skating along casually. He looks oddly in his element.

"Let's keep low for now, Lúcio." Ana pipes up from beside him. "We have a long day ahead of us." she adds, voice quieter.

She's right. You have a lot of long days ahead, you think.

You smile as you keep yourself from outpacing the group.

You feel your cheeks heat up when you reach the building and you momentarily wonder whether Winston's mask helped with the cold. It's rather nippy for late winter, you think before you remember exactly where you are.

"These are not the beats I was expecting," Lúcio says, eyeing the bowl of borsht before him, identical to yours. You take a spoonful.

"I'm not complaining," you shrug. "It's better than Jack's cooking, at the very least."

The resulting chorus of giggles and 'ooooh's at the table warms you up just as much as the borsht does.

Even outside of base, you feel at home with these people.

And home needs protecting right now.

You take another spoonful of borsht.

\--------

It's six a.m.

You've been awake for an hour already.

Your feet feel more sluggish than usual, the week's work wearing down on you. You don't show any sign of your movements slowing as you are driven towards yet another base with the group.

You've moved nearly every day since Medvedev's higher ups gave the command to move after the omnics instead of letting them retreat. You're inching closer to Volskaya rather than the omnium, as you would have expected from that sort of strategy, but you've learned to expect surprises during your time in Russia so far.

You've learned a couple things, in fact.

You've learned that the omnic attacks are noticeably more coordinated this time, more strategic and precise. The god program theory you'd heard someone throw out a long while ago seems more likely by the second. You don't want to think about how far the reach of a program like that would have to be to pull off something like this.

You've learned that Vishkar has been around here for a while now, seemingly having come to hold up their omnic-destroyer reputation. You listen attentively when Lúcio occasionally rants about them, needing to get it off his chest.

"Are they secret recruits, too?" you ask Medvedev as you help him pack supplies, occasionally looking over to the group of Vishkar engineers seemingly residing near your base for the day.

"No, they are official," he says, voice oddly thoughtful for a second before he drops a crate into your hands and goes back into boss mode. Which is to say, authoritative and loud. "Move, move. Let's go, little Lena!"

(He never so much as attempted to pronounce your last name, wrote you down as "L-eh-na" and called it a day. You honestly don't mind too much - you sort of like the pronunciaion.)

You move as told, casting one more peek at the Vishkar group, only to see a vaguely familiar face.

Memories of Brazil flash trough your mind and you remember you never really got to thank the Vishkar lady that shielded you back then.

You pull off what is probably the most coordinated act of stealth you'll ever be capable of when you approach her later that day, seizing the opportunity of seeing her alone, no other engineers in sight.

"Hey," you say, instantly faced with her gun as she jumps in surprise. "Whoa, sorry, love, didn't mean to jump out at you like that. I just wanted to thank you."

Her eyebrows furrow. The defensive stance doesn't falter.

"You shielded us in Brazil a few years ago, remember? You really did us a solid back there, don't know if I'd be here now if it weren't for you." You smile at her.

She spends a moment carefully looking around, then looks back at you, eyebrows still furrowed. "Your friend?" she asks quietly, as if not to alert anyone around.

"He's fine now! Lively as ever, thanks to you." you grin widely at her. "What are you lot up to here, anyway? I've noticed you around for a while now."

Her face grows even more reluctant. There's a long moment before she answers.

"Do not talk to me like this. I do not want to be associated with Overwatch on any level."

Your shoulders sag a little. You'd forgotten Vishkar isn't exactly Overwatch's best buddy in all of your excitement.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it then. But if you ever need help, know that Tracer's got your back, okay?" you point at yourself.

"I... I won't. Do not expect me to help you again."

"That's fine, love, you've helped me more than enough already." you say, not letting your smile falter. "Cheers!" you add before sprinting away.

You make it a point to discretely wave at her the next few times you see her. You don't mind that she never waves back.

You learn that Lúcio's charm is irresistible to anyone as you watch him make a friend out of literally every soldier in general Medvedev's squad, including the general himself.

You watch recruits move along to his perpetual music on fortunate days, dancing as though they'd never heard of combat, let alone been a part of it that same day. You see the same soldiers flock to him on less fortunate days, letting the chill beats wash away the pain from their injuries.

You watch Junkrat get swarmed by recruits yelling in multiple languages as you round a corner once. You manage to pick out a very clear "Why is so that he, Lúcio Correia dos Santos, must deal with your bullshit now?" from the commotion (with a very careful pronunciation of the name, you note).

You aren't sure what Junkrat said or did, but you'd bet he deserves all this.

You never do get to find out what happened, as the commotion is promptly put to a stop by Roadhog, who uses one hand to pick up a still-screeching Junkrat, and raises the other to silence the soldiers. Roadhog's formidable presence strikes a certain nervousness into even the strongest of recruits, with the exception of Medvedev, whose eyes never really lose their cold wolfish edge.

The edge softens a slight bit as he fusses about getting Lúcio a properly fitting coat merely a few days into your time in Russia.

"You really don't gotta do this, Evgeni, seriously" Lúcio pleads as general Medvedev (who insisted Lúcio call him by name) hounds a panicked recruit who is trying her best to find a properly fitting coat. "this coat's mega sweet! It's pretty mega in general, hahah."

"Nonsense. Russian winter is harsh. Sunny Brazil man like you needs proper coat."

You see Lúcio sliding around later that day, an almost properly sized coat keeping him warm.

You learn you really have no talent for stealth when Overwatch's involvement in Russia gets reported on within your first week there.

"A real pickle you put me in now," Medvedev grumbles under his breath that day. "when I say 'secret recruits', I did mean secret, do you not know?"

"Will you be alright, sir?" you ask and watch him scoff at the question.

"I will be fine. I, Evgeni Dima Medvedev, am not man who is easy to bring down. You should watch over yourselves from now." he says, then walks away.

You smile as you realise he will watch over you just as much as before.

You learn of Vishkar's plans when Mercy and Torbjörn show up as reinforcements towards the end of your second week here.

"They're building a dome over the omnium again," Torbjörn says. "because they're idiots. Do they not think one radioactive death dome is enough?"

"I got a rather good view of it when we tried to snoop a little bit," Mercy says. "It doesn't look very structurally strong..."

"I mean, it explains why they haven't helped fight, at least," Ana says, voice distant and thoughtful.

"We don't need their help. We'll take down the cans before their little snow-globe is even finished." Torbjörn states with pure confidence.

You ask the Vishkar woman - Satya Vaswani, you overheard her called - about the dome next time you manage to catch her alone.

"Its structure is calculated and precise. Do not interfere." she responds to you before disappearing.

You don't see her after that and you can't help but feel a slight bit worried.

Finally, you learn to respect the Russian soldiers fighting along with you.

Especially once you meet one Aleksandra Zaryanova.

You're facing the consequences of charging straight into the fray on what seems to be one of the less successful days you've had, when you eventually find yourself injured and separated from your group, faced instead with a group of omnics.

Your mind is racing as you use what's left of your strength to dodge bullet after bullet. You take a breath, stick a hand in your pocket and count. 1 sticky bomb.

You're running around, trying to come up with a way to herd the now even larger group of omnics into one spot when a voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Throw the bomb now!" you hear clearly over the gunfire.

You look back to find the omnics all conveniently in one spot. You throw the bomb, hoping your natural sense of aim will prevail over your blurring vision.

A blast rings out. Your ears start ringing. And keep ringing. And keep ringing.

"--you stand?" you eventually make out over the ringing. Your vision really isn't helping you much either.

You feel yourself being picked up a moment later. You lean your heavy, heavy head against what you presume to be an arm.

You wake up hours later to the sound of whispers.

You crack open an eye. You see the familiar silhouette of Ana and you suddenly feel very safe. You question your sanity for a moment, as you listen to Ana's voice speak words of which you understand precisely zero. It takes you a little while to realise that's because she's speaking Russian.

"I didn't know you spoke Russian, love," you croak out, voice unexpectedly hoarse. Ana jumps.

"Oh! Good, you're awake. I'm glad." she then goes on to instruct you to not speak anymore until she gets you some water, but your attention is directed elsewhere, as you spot the face of your saviour sitting beside Ana.

"Thank you," You croak out, ignoring Ana's instructions. You already know you'll get a scolding for running in alone and being careless later today, you might as well add inobedience onto your little list of offenses.

"It is no problem." the woman responds. "You would have done so for me."

You take a large gulp of water before speaking again.

"I don't know if I would've carried you as easily, but I sure would have tried."

You smile as her laughter fills the air.

You've made a friend today, you realise as Zarya introduces herself with the fiercest handshake you've ever experienced.

A fun friend, you realise as you get to know her over the next few days, her aura fitting quite well into your group, where she stays from that point onwards.

A strong friend, you realise as she continues to help you out time and time again.

An incredibly strong friend, you realise as she moves to help you during the biggest battle you've had yet.

The area surrounding Volskaya is riddled with bodies of omnics and humans alike and you struggle to see any sort of end to the omnic forces approaching. This was their main target, you realise as you see a couple of Volskaya's Svyatogor units working to push back the seemingly endless wave of attackers.

Your legs ache, your aim is starting to falter due to a nasty arm wound and you've run out of bombs long ago, but the moment Zarya steps into your view you feel safe.

The feeling of safety stays with you as you keep moving, even when the ground seems like it's shaking below you. It stays with you as the sound of combat dies down and the first "Hurra!" rings trough the air.

It stays with you as you feel yourself picked up again.

"We really shouldn't make a habit of meeting like this," you say as you listen to the somewhat steady rhythm of her footsteps. "I'll end up too spoiled to use these legs if I keep getting lobbed around like royalty."

Her breath is heavy, but there's a distinct happiness radiating from her.

You reunite with the rest of the surviving soldiers, most of whom are too busy tossing Lúcio into the air over and over to really notice your approach.

You feel your wounds soothed as Mercy takes you from Zarya's hands. You give Mercy a bright smile.

"We won," you remind her, just to see her face light up again.

You enjoy triumph for a little while, until you watch Medvedev's face go from uncharacteristically delighted to uncharacteristically despaired within the span of one phone call. Any trace of the light that had enveloped that face a moment ago is gone as he falls to his knees, face blank.

"Vishkar dome exploded," he says as Lúcio helps him stand up. "Siberia is ruins."

The sense of safety you felt before disintegrates in an instant. A distinct and potent dread seeps into your bones.

The dread stays as you listen to panicked Russian from the radio fill the vehicle on the ride back to your last base. Noone speaks over it for the majority of the ride.

"Not one of these ruskies did a thing for the Outback when this went down before," you hear Junkrat say, leaning against Roadhog's arm, voice quieter than you ever thought it could go. "and we used to joke a bunch, remember? 'bout them dealing with acid snows instead of the rains we had? Radioactive bears?"

A weak giggle escapes him. He pauses for a little while without looking up.

" 's not as funny anymore, somehow."

The dread is interrupted by a sliver of hope when you see a familiar silhouette slink into the building next to your base.

"Satya?" you call out, poking your head into the building.

You find her curled up in a corner, her clothes in significant disarray.

You sit down next to her, careful not to prod her.

"Are you alright, Satya?" you nearly whisper.

"I... It was my fault... I," her voice is muffled by her arms. "I should have noticed the mistake in the east side, this wasn't..." her voice shakes. "this wasn't supposed to happen. And now I... I ran and now I do not belong there anymore... Not anywhere."

She flinches away when you extend an arm towards her shoulder.

"Do not touch me, I... I do not deserve nor need any of your pity!" she stands up before you can even blink.

"I'll always be around if you want my help," you call after her as she runs away.

The dread ultimately returns when Overwatch gets blamed for the catastrophe, Vishkar presenting a photo of Mercy near the incomplete dome as proof of sabotage. You're taken aback as governments around the world take this flimsy logic as 'the last straw' and Overwatch persecution operations are launched overnight.

"Everyone wants a scapegoat" you hear the Petras boy nearly whisper after the news break.

"You have to leave now." Medvedev tells you that day, the unwavering wolfish glare back on his face. "As secret recruits, you were not very good secret, but good recruits." he goes on, shaking Winston's hand as a goodbye of sorts. "But do not come back. You have caused me trouble enough. My hair would gray before 40 if this continue." he shrugs. "If I live to 40 now."

You aren't surprised when he strictly declines your offer for a hug. You're even less surprised when he accepts Lúcio's.

"Hard times are coming, for us Russians and for you." Zarya says along with her goodbyes. " I will catch up to you at a later time. Stay strong."

"I'll do well to be just as strong as you, love." you smile at her.

You don't get to enjoy being at home for long, as the base's location being an open secret really doesn't bode well for you now.

You stay still for a long moment as you say goodbye to the base for now.

You take a deep breath, savouring the familiar air. You lament the amount of dust that will have gathered here by the time you return (which you are determined to do no matter what).

You let the breath out and follow Winston outside.

You take another breath. And with it, Overwatch's covert era begins.


	2. Chapter 2

It's six a.m.

You hear the sound of McCree snoring before you even realise you're awake.

It's a good day to change the world as any!

You jump out of bed and look around the room. You spot your reflection on the tiny window.

Still the same as ever.

You give yourself a big grin and go straight for waking McCree before you do anything else.

"Rise and shine, love!" you shout, shaking him by the arm. "Sun's up, gun's up, as they say!"

"Noone says that," he mumbles, sound muffled by his pillow.

"I said it just now, love! I've also said you need to get up now, cowboy, unless you'd like to be kicked out of bed again. I could arrange that." You shake him more vigorously now, laughing as he grumbles incomprehensibly.

"I hate roomin' with you, Traceeeer." he whines as you sit down right onto his back, taking a breather from the shaking.

"Should've told your trusty hat to pass you a better roomie then, love!" you laugh, reaching to put said hat onto your head. "Like Ana! Or Zenyatta." you lean over, balancing the hat on your head as you place yourself right next to his ear, giggling. "Or Hanzo."

"Don't go startin' with this right in the mornin', come on," he whines, pushing you off him as he sits up.

"What do you mean by 'don't go startin', love? You're the one who hasn't gone started anything! Make a move already, cowboy! Smooch him!"

McCree groans and plops back down onto the pillow.

You're still giggling as Lúcio pokes his head into the room. "Heeeey," he says. "What'cha talking about here?"

"We're talking about how McCree's a huge loser who can't charm a guy for shit." you shrug.

McCree groans even loader.

"Oh, this again? Man, no offense, but you really gotta step your game up!" Lúcio takes a proper step into the room. "I mean, I'm all for dancing around, and Hanzo's an alright dancer, don't get me wrong, but you can't keep dancing around each other like this, come on!" You hear McCree grumble something into the pillow as Lúcio goes on. "You want me to wingman for you?"

"I want y'all to let me get some sleep in for once," McCree whines, voice clearer as he turns to face you.

"Alright, let's let the cowboy wallow by himself then. We've got cooler people to wake today." you shrug, taking McCree's hat off your head. You stop for a second as an idea crosses your mind. "Hey, Lúcio! Catch!"

Say what you will about the hat, it soars trough the air with amazing grace. Oh, how sweet the sound.

You get about two steps out the room before McCree begins the chase, yelling after you.

You laugh as you run trough the halls, cowboy on your tail. You toss the hat between Lúcio and yourself, ultimately passing it to Genji, who happens to walk out into the hall right in front of you.

He shrugs, puts the hat on his head and casually leaps out of a window. ("For fuck's sake! Not you too!" you vaguely hear McCree yell as he looks out said window).

"I think the cowboy's done our job for us by now, love." you laugh a you remember you were supposed to be waking people and not, in fact, stealing hats.

You might as well go say hi to everyone anyway, then.

"You kids wouldn't know a stealth op if it punched you in the face, I swear." 76 says as soon as you open the door to his and Athena's room. "Why's McCree running outside in his pajamas?"

"I would also like to know." Athena says."For data log purposes, of course."

You snort. You've become almost used to Athena being a physical presence rather than an all-knowing voice over the weeks. Almost.

It's much easier to give her hugs now, which is nice. But you do occasionally catch yourself calling out to thin air, forgetting that she is no longer present in every corner of the base.

You chat with Athena and 76 for a while, until the latter decides it's about time to go ground McCree and Genji. And by that you mean just McCree. He won't catch up to Genji.

You're not sure you look forward to dealing with a grumpy, hatless, grounded cowboy as your roommate for the day, but you'll make the best of it. You wonder if you could get him double grounded.

You remember how glad you are to be in one of the less populated rooms when you say your hello's to the shared room of Winston, Bastion, Mercy and Mei. The hat gave you a lucky draw this time, no matter what your roommate (currently hatless) seems to think.

You listen to Mei and Winston arguing over some sort of equation before they notice you.

"Oh, could you ask Junkrat, Roadhog and Ana to come see me while you're walking around?" Winston asks after you explain the earlier commotion.

"Ooh, do we get to do Athena's job now?" you joke at the exact time Lúcio says "Sure!".

You look at each other for a second, shrug, and move on to the next room, which is currently Hanzo and Reinhardt's room. Lúcio stops you mid step, pointing your sight downwards and you're suddenly reminded that you've been running around barefoot this entire time.

"Why's there glass on the floor?" you ask Hanzo, who looks away from the window , questioning look on his face mirroring yours.

"Reinhardt hit his head into the light and it fell apart." he explains in complete monotone.

"Ja. These rooms are not meant for someone my size. Now I know how our dwarf friend must feel in standard sized rooms." Reinhardt laughs, walking past you and out the door. "I shall find a broom to fix this."

"Why is... What..." Hanzo begins, pointing at the window.

"Genji's got McCree's hat." Lúcio explains, tiptoeing around the glass to get to the window. "Uh-oh, there goes Papa 76."

You watch 76 angrily stomp his way after a still noticeably hatless McCree.

"Give him a hand, Prince Charming," you say, turning to Hanzo with a smirk. "if anyone can get the hat from Genji, it's you."

"I do not wish to spend my moring chasing after my brother." Hanzo responds. "And do not use that nickname ever again. I am no prince."

"But you can't deny you're charming, huh?" you wink at him, then turn towards the door and skip over the glass before Hanzo can say anything. "Alright, let's move on then, we've got to round up some people for Winston."

You walk right into one of said people on your way out of the room.

"Sorry, love." you say, looking up to see a familiar mask. "Oh, hello! Winston's been looking for you."

Roadhog's mask muffles his response, but you're pretty sure you hear the word 'rat' in there.

"He asked for Junkrat, too, yup. We were just about to go get him." you say.

"You wanna come with?" Lúcio offers. Roadhog nods.

You expect to see nothing but ash and carnage when you open the door to Junkrat and Zenyatta's room.

You do not expect to see Junkrat doing the tree pose in tandem with Zenyatta.

You hesitate for a second before shouting out your greetings.

"Would you shut up for a second, mate?! You're breaking my concentration!" Junkrat yells right back at you, putting his good foot back onto the ground.

"Didn't see you as one for yoga, love."

"It gets the bot to shut his gob, alright? Besides, it's sorta calming, y'know?" you don't get to respond before Junkrat forgets your presence entirely as he leaps straight at the man behind you. "Hog! It's about time ya showed up. Have you been sleeping in without me, ya lazy bastard?"

You vaguely wave bye to them as they move down the hall. You turn back to see Lúcio attempting the tree pose in Junkrat's place.

"How does he do this so easily with the peg leg? That's mad impressive. I can barely hold it." he says.

"Jamison has had more practice in balance than you. After a little bit of training you could be just as proficient." Zenyatta says as he watches you attempt the pose right after them.

"You know what would help out? Some chill beats. Gets the zen going and all," Lúcio smiles.

"Gets me going where?" Zenyatta asks and any semblance of balance you had going is lost.

"Oh, come on, Zenyatta, don't you dad joke us too!" you say as Zenyatta laughs. "Let's go Lúcio, I'm done with balance for now."

"Hello, 'done with balance', I am Zenyatta." you hear as you pull a cackling Lúcio out of the room.

You aren't surprised to see Torbjörn still sleeping in as you enter his and Genji's room. And you aren't surprised when he attempts to throw the nearest object at you when you yell him awake.

Lúcio's room is empty as expected, with both Roadhog and Pharah having woken earlier. You each give a high five to the latter as you pass her in the hall.

The last room of the day belongs to D.Va and Ana, the latter of whom you send off to Winston right after saying your hello's.

"I'm afraid you'll have to drink your morning tea without me today." Ana says as she walks out of the room.

"There's always time for tea, love!" And there really is. Of all your philosophies about time, you think this one might be the most important of all.

"She made me go to bed at 11, guys, can you believe this? This is the worst." D.Va starts as soon as Ana gets out the door. "11! Do you know how much game time I missed out on? Hours."

"At least she doesn't snore like a train." you shrug.

Speaking of your train-snoring, hatless, grumpy, grounded roomate, you decide to at least bring him a cup of coffee along with your morning tea as a sort of peace offering.

"I got you a cuppa," you tell him as you walk into the tiny room, seeing his expectedly grumpy, hatless self sitting on his bed, pointedly ignoring you. You hand him the cup. "did you get grounded?"

"Don't sass me." he says, almost not spilling coffee onto the bed as he tries to take the cup from you without actually looking at it.

"What are you gonna do, ground me?" you laugh, taking a sip of your tea.

"Shut up." he grumbles out with the voice inflection of a child who's been put in time out. In a way, you guess that's exactly what he is right now.

You get about three sips into your tea before someone knocks on the door.

"Pardon the intrusion," says Hanzo as he enters the room. "but I've only come to return something of yours."

He holds out McCree's hat and the cowboy nearly spills his coffee again.

You grin. Well, would you look at that. Did he go out and catch Genji then? You have so many questions. You decide to save them for a later time. Right now you settle for quietly watching McCree, who's looking at Hanzo as if he were made of solid gold.

You stay quiet until you see Hanzo turn to leave, at which point you jump up and catch him by the shoulder.

"How about you join us for tea, love? You stay right here, I'll go make you a cuppa." you say, sitting him down and dashing out of the room before he can even protest.

Morning tea is still the best part of the day, you think as you make a cup of said tea for Hanzo.

\--------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops once in a while.

You get used to covert operation over the weeks, not letting the constant moving and occasionally questionable missions knock you off your stride.

You get used to keeping a blink available for moments where you have to hide from the sudden appearance of Overwatch hunters (these being various strike teams and bounty hunters, mostly.) and you get used to running around in various sweaters and coats in order to disguise yourself and all of your blue glow at least a slight bit.

You quickly learn that no matter where you hide or what disguise you put on, the familiar whizz of the greeting bullet will find its way to you, giving you a gracious moment to perform the usual salute before more shots follow.

You find out that despite the changes in Overwatch proceedings, nothing much changes when it comes to fighting Widowmaker. You fight, you bant, sometimes you get the hint of a polite nice chat over the gunfire. You focus on each other, paying no attention to the others fighting around you.

Until the one time Mercy calls out to Widowmaker as 'Amélie' and you watch her freeze, turn around and leave the battle altogether.

The look on her face at that moment starts haunting you, to a point where you thoughtlessly call her 'Amélie' during one of your next battles and watch her run away from you, moving to a different target as far away as she can manage, before you even realise what you've done.

You do it once more, deliberately this time, just to see what happens. You aren't sure whether you're surprised when she ends up leaving again.

You decide to stop trying as you notice her movements lose a certain edge of grace, becoming more choppy and imprecise, her speech more constrained than you've ever heard it. She's panicked, you think right before you try to ask her about it, deciding against that in the end.

You're letting the dance play out as usual on one of these missions, when Soldier 76's voice suddenly rings out in your ear, telling you to get to cover, as there's a large group of Overwatch hunters coming. You panic slightly as you realise you don't have a blink at the ready, having wasted the last one to get some distance on Widowmaker. The fact that you've never had to hide during a Widowmaker battle before along with the fact that Soldier 76's panicked voice keeps going on about how big the group is, really doesn't help your nerves.

You panic and rush into an empty nearby ticket booth, only to realise there's someone already hiding there.

You're taken aback for a moment when you realise it's Widowmaker.

You hear a lot of footsteps getting progressively louder by the second.

There's no time to go anywhere else.

"Truce," you whisper and watch her eyebrows scrunch up. "I'm not any happier about this than you are, believe me! Scoot over."

She rolls her eyes at you, but does as asked.

A silence hangs in the air as you listen to the sound of footsteps outside. You hope Widowmaker can't hear the way your heart pounds. You really hope none of the hunters decide to go for some tickets while they're out there.

"Why are you hiding, anyway?" You whisper to Widowmaker. "Aren't these people sort of working in your favour, trying to weed out Overwatch and all?"

"Talon is just as high on the bounty list as you are. Do not forget who you're dealing with." she whispers back. You stay quiet for a moment as a pair of footsteps get uncomfortably loud. The sound fades out.

"Is that a threat I hear, love?" you giggle. "Are you planning to get me by surprise as soon as this blows over?"

"Perhaps." She smiles. You can't help but notice how lovely her smile is from this close, even one as sinister as this. "Are you scared, chérie?"

"Of you? No." You take a moment to attempt counting how many people are out there, but you quickly lose count. "Are you?"

"I have never once been afraid of you." she says.

"No, that's not what I asked." you shake your head slightly. "Are you afraid of yourself?"

Her eyebrows scrunch up again as she waits for you to explain what you mean.

"Because you seem to run away every time someone so much as mentions your name, Amélie."

Her face loses any trace of emotion. "That is not my name anymore."

"Well, doesn't that mean there's even less reason to fear it then?"

"I do not fear it. I dislike being referred to as someone I'm not."

You nod, understanding that to be the tip of the iceberg at most. "Who would you say you are then, as a person?"

"What sort of question is that?"

"Just answer it. Humour me. Who are you? What do you live for?"

She gives you a calculating look, face still carefully masking any emotion.

"I am Widowmaker, prized sniper of Talon. I live for the kill."

"Then how come you haven't killed me yet, Widowmaker, prized sniper of Talon? That may be who you are for a large part of your day, but at this moment, as you're curled up in a ticket booth with an enemy who you've left alive time and time again, do you really know anything about yourself?"

The sound of footsteps gets louder for a minute and so does your heartbeat.

"Do not try to work your useless philosophy into my head." she says.

You wait a long while after the footsteps have gone to reply.

"No matter who you are now, you'll eventually have to come to terms with who you were before, you know."

"I have no reason to. I am perfectly confident in who I am. I do not look back." You're not so sure of that. While her confidence may sound real to the untrained ear, you've heard enough actual confidence from her to know the difference.

"Well, whichever way you decide to go, I'll be around to beat some sense into you. Whoever you are that day, really." you smirk at her.

She scoffs. "We'll see about that."

You watch her leap away a minute later, after the footsteps have quieted down completely. You wonder what's going through her mind.

\--------

No matter how fast you run, time seems to outspeed you, every tick-tock of the clock reminding you it's time to work, work, work.

Trying to outrun the persecution along while completing the ever-growing workload gets a little tiring even for you, who's never thought running could get tiring. Talon makes more frequent appearances as well, which simultaniously brings more trouble and an occasional distraction via Wdowmaker's usual battles.

You don't mind not being sent on some of the more important missions,most of them involving tracking Shimada movements in Japan, as you're a rather noticeable target, no matter how many coats you pile on to hide your obvious unblinking source of light.

"Japan really didn't like us in their country before - the Hanzo retrieval mission was kind of a mess," Winston says during a checkup of said obvious light-source. "but now that no country really wants us around, we might as well go there, too."

"I really thought I'd taken care of the clan back then," Genji says when you ask him about it once. "I guess I'm glad I get a second chance, at least."

"You have a talent for getting second chances," you hear Hanzo mutter in response.

"It seems that runs in the family, brother." Genji responds.

You find yourself missing the old base more and more, every time you move from place to place. The others missing it just as much as you is simultaneously comforting and saddening.

You watch Bastion stare at their watering can, beeping sadly as they remember the slew of plants they left behind in the little balcony.

"I know, buddy," D.Va says, curled up beside the omnic. "I miss streaming."

You feel more determined than ever to bring everyone back to the base safely.

Which is why you work, work, work, ignoring the soreness in your legs and the occasional waver of your chronal accelerator's light.

There are certain moments that make it all worth the work.

Moments, such as Winston's little smile as you hand in a report on a successful mission.

Moments, such as a sweet old woman in Brazil who, upon hearing the word 'Overwatch', does not report you to any authorities, but instead insists you have lunch at her home. "Brazil is always home to Overwatch," she says, and you can't help but believe her.

"What did she put into that soup? My legs feel stronger than ever," you say as you reluctantly leave her modest little home.

"Love, mostly." Lúcio responds, smiling.

Moments, such as seeing the look on Pharah and Mercy's faces as they take their vows during the now traditional Overwatch anniversary beach visit (which, despite being a lot more secretive and covert, is an important occasion).

You can't help but smile, seeing everyone together in one location again, instead of split into smaller groups across the globe. And you guess there's no reason not to smile - you're taking on the very important role of flower girl, after all.

You toss petals into the air and watch them get carried off by the wind. You throw some more and then even more, not thinking of ever stopping.

"Stop," says best man McCree, trying to get a ridiculous amount of petals off his shirt. "Tracer," he growls. You throw more petals at him.

You laugh when Bastion, the other flower girl (flower boy? Flower being? Flower friend.), joins in.

"That's a good look for you, McCree," Genji laughs as he approaches. McCree throws a handful of petals at him, only for them to get deflected right back at him.

"It takes a lot of insolence to wear a hat to a ceremony like this," Hanzo says from beside Genji, trying and failing not to smile. "Although the flowers do make it somewhat more festive."

McCree groans. "Y'all are just jealous 'cause you didn't get picked best man."

"I don't know," you shrug. "I think Hanzo would've preferred being Maid of Honour."

You take the handful of petals thrown at you as a sign of war.

Then you take the sight of 76 making a beeline for your petal-covered group as a sign to stop.

You watch Ana try not to cry during the ceremony. You aren't surprised when she does.

"Y'know, I didn't get what all the fuss is about," Junkrat says after he takes a bite of the cake. "But now I think I get it."

"I'm not so sure you do." says Maid of Honour Mei (also known as simply Mei of Honour).

"Sure I do! You dress up all fancy and eat some cake - that's all you people ever do to celebrate." He shrugs and takes another bite of cake before turning to Roadhog. "You ever been to a wedding before, Hog?"

Roadhog grunts affirmatively. His piece of cake sits in front of him, untouched. You don't recall ever seeing him take the mask off.

"...Your own?" you hear Mei quietly ask as Junkrat goes on about every occasion being the same.

"Doesn't matter anymore." Roadhog responds, pushing his piece of cake over to you as you finish your own.

"Is that where you got all your rings from then?" Junkrat asks, stopping mid rant. He laughs when Roadhog responds with a quiet 'no'. Said rings on his hand very clearly read "LEFT".

"Thought so - four's a lot of weddings for one guy. Would knock even you dead with that much cake, eh?" Junkrat continues laughing. "It's kinda nice though, the whole ring thing. It's like a shiny little reminder, y'know?"

"A reminder of which hand you're looking at?" You question his logic. You don't know why you try.

"No, mate! Well, yeah, that too, but also a reminder of a person." He says. You giggle. You didn't take him as the sentimental type.

"F for Fawkes." Roadhog says, pointing at the F in LEFT.

"See? Exactly!" Junkrat says before jumping out of his seat to cling onto Roadhog's shoulders. "C'mere, ya big sap."

"The whole hand could be an acronym then," you say. "'Leave Everything For Tracer'."

"Let's End Fawkes' Terrorism," Mei shrugs.

You end up spending the rest of the time at the table making up acronyms. You honestly couldn't think of a better way to spend time.

You smile as you watch Pharah carry Mercy into the sea, fancy dress and all.

Today's been a good day.

You hope for many more like it.

\--------

"Well this seems familiar, doesn't it?" you ask the graceful silhouette currently curled up next to you behind some crates in the smallest alley you've seen in years.

"I'd prefer if it were not." Widowmaker responds, voice hushed.

"So would I, believe me. It's much too cramped here, if you ask me." You feel trapped, not being able to fully extend your legs.

"I did not ask you."

"That's alright, I'll answer anyway." you shrug. " Though cramped spaces aren't a new thing for me, I guess. You wouldn't believe some of our temporary bases, love." You shudder at the memory.

You're staying in a comparatively decent base right now - it fits your main criteria of 'enough space to do a hearty sprint' moderately well.

"You seem to think Talon has better accommodation." Widowmaker scoffs.

"Oh, right, you're just as incognito as us," you nod, suddenly curious to know more about her living space. "Do you lot get roomates?"

"Sometimes." she shrugs. "Not currently."

"You're lucky then, love! I'm stuck with Jesse McSnore again." you giggle, remembering the look on McCree's face when he pulled your name out of the hat for the third time now. You could see the dread for the next morning in his face.

She lets out a stifled laugh and you're taken slightly aback by how genuine it sounds.

"The cowboy? He does look like he snores."

"Like a train! I swear, the walls start shaking every time the clock hits high snooze!" you complain and then pause to listen to her laugh again.

You've missed that sound.

You won't get to enjoy the idle conversation for long, you realise when you look up only to meet the eyes of an Overwatch hunter. Maybe you should've complained a tad quieter.

He barely manages to open his mouth before he keels over, a bullet lodged right between his eyes.

"Allons-y." You barely hear over the chorus of over there's and in the alleyway's and other such variations. You don't get to so much as blink before you feel an arm encircle you and suddenly you're swinging trough the air, course set straight for the roof of an adjacent building.

Gunfire and yells ring trough the air as your feet are set down on the roof. Widowmaker glances back at you from where she's already begun running and you need no further incentive to move.

You wouldn't have though there could be anything better than chasing Widowmaker around in your usual dance, but in this moment, as you run along with her, her shots protecting your back just as much as you protect hers, you realise you've really hit the jackpot when it comes to interactions with the sniper.

"Was nice of you to give me a lift there, love! You feeling charitable today?" you laugh and then laugh even harder when one of her bullets flies entirely too close to your foot.

No other dance will ever come close to this from now on, you think.

"Thanks, love." you say, only somewhat reluctantly, once you've found cover. The chorus of rushed footsteps is getting more distant by the second.

"I only thought your little snore-plagued head needed a wake-up call, that's all." she sneers.

"Right, can't afford to snooze with you around, can I?" You giggle.

The sudden thought that this team-up is an exception and likely won't happen again saddens you a surprisingly large amount.

"You know," you begin once your giggles have quieted down. "you'd probably make a way better roommate than Snoozeman McHighnoon..."

Her laugh is back to its rehearsed evil cackle state.

"No." she responds before you've even gotten the question out. "I am never going back to Overwatch. Don't ask again."

And with the sound of the grappling hook shooting trough the air once more, she's gone. You didn't even get to wave goodbye.

You'll ask again. You're determined to ask again now.

\--------

You catch yourself wondering whether your legs will ever get tired once, before the blue glow from your chest reminds you that no, no they won't.

You choose to take that as a positive thing. You keep running forward, the tick-tock rhythm of your inner clock replaced by an endlessly repeating fight, fight, fight.

Your usually ceaseless blabbering goes pointedly quiet anytime someone casually mentions they might be getting too old for this. You don't believe them one bit.

How could you, when they all seem so full of life, speeding trough streets around the world with confidence so potent it's contagious.

Once in a while you feel tempted to stop in your tracks just to watch them all in action.

You know you can't - you have to fight, fight, fight, your inner clock reminds you. There's no time to dawdle.

You settle for passing glances and sounds, instead.

You laugh as you nearly run into Mei's sudden ice walls once in a while, the speed at which they appear rivaling your own.

The sound of explosions and cackling can occasionally be heard, usually followed by the jingle of Roadhog's chain.

"You aren't apart from him very often, are you?" you ask Roadhog once, after realising they're never sent on missions separately.

"I'm his bodyguard first, Overwatch second." Roadhog explains.

You run with a smile when music fills your ears, a familiar green blur moving alongside you in your peripherals.

You can't help but giggle when you hear D.Va and Soldier 76's voices arguing over the comm.

You do allow yourself a pause when you hear Hanzo call the dragons. It's the one exception to the running rule you've set for yourself. Your feet are rooted to the ground as you watch the dragons move, roars echoing through the streets.

It doesn't get any less impressive to you. You don't think it ever will.

You grin as the dragons disappear in the distance.

You take a deep breath and zoom away again, going back to fight, fight, fight.

\--------

Growing used to not seeing some agents for months, sometimes being stationed on opposite sides of the world and all, you start noticing little changes about them more often than before.

You notice Athena occasionally roaming the halls long before you've woken her, used to being the wake-up call when neither you, nor Lúcio are around.

You notice the word "Shimada" appearing more frequently in Winston's usual piles of mission reports and other work. "We don't know the full picture of their intentions right now," Winston says when you ask him. "them taking down another clan is nothing new, but the amount of omnics involved is clearly unusual. We can only assume something's up so far, however."

"So we're stuck being sneaky spies when it comes to Japan?" you ask, mindlessly folding some report into a paper plane. You hope it wasn't too important.

"Yes. That's why I haven't sent you there yet." he says, pointing vaguely in the direction of your ever-glowing chronal accelerator.

"Or yourself." you shrug, pointing vaguely at Winston's entire gorilla body.

"Or myself." he agrees with a weak laugh.

You notice a new scar on Mei's arm, carefully guarded by layers of sweaters and coats most of the time. "It's alright," she assures you when you ask. "it's mostly healed by now, anyway."

"Did you win the fight, at least?" you ask.

She looks straight at you, her eyes narrowing.

"Do I look like I'd let them win?"

No. No, she doesn't.

You notice the blond glow of Torbjörn's beard give way to silver more and more each time you see him. You don't point it out, both because you don't feel like acknowledging the effect of time when it doesn't concern blinking yourself forward or back, and because you're rather not have to dodge a wrench a second time that day.

You notice his aim's gotten better when it comes to that.

You notice lots of little details once you actually slow yourself down to look.

But you're sure even the fastest, densest version of Tracer would notice the child Roadhog and Junkrat inexplicably bring back from a mission to Japan.

"We kidnapped her from the Shimada pricks - as bait, y'know?" Junkrat begins explaining after he's sufficiently shut up everyone's questioning demands. "Stood around a bloody long time - noone came. Not parents, not a lousy henchmen, nothing. So we ask for bail money - or anything at this point - still not a peep from the Shimadas."

You look the kid over as Junkrat continues. She's tiny - looks even tinier as she clings to Roadhog's arm. She seems perfectly calm and happy to be there. Everyone else in the room does not.

"So we decided, fuck it, we're keepin' her, cause it's a waste of a kid otherwise, yeah?" he turns to ruffle the girl's hair. You cringe a little as you remember the amount of soot that usually covers Junkrat's hands. "Fuck those Shimada cunts! Roadie and I are gonna be the best parents."

The facial expressions around the room tell you not everyone quite believes that last statement.

You watch Genji and Hanzo try to talk to the girl in Japanese, occasionally stopping to discuss among themselves, the sound of Winston and Mercy lecturing the junkers seemingly not a bother to them.

"Kidnapping is not an appropriate means to get information--"

"You can't just take a child--"

"What were you even trying to gain from---"

You wonder whether Jack will be sad he missed the lecture party happening right now.

"Her name is Chizuru and she's 4 years old." Genji says when the lecture party moves to survey the girl herself. "She is our cousin Sanae's daughter, we think."

"I cannot believe Sanae would simply leave a child to be taken like this," Hanzo grumbles under his breath. He continues, and then continues some more, but you can't hear what he says.

"Alright." Mercy says, taking a deep breath. "Have you asked her whether she wants to go home?"

Chizuru doesn't look at Genji as he asks the question, choosing instead to shyly cling to Roadhog's boot. Her voice is surprisingly calm as she answers.

"She wants to stay," Genji translates.

You hear Angela let out a deep sigh.

"I'm gonna need you to steal some medical records for me," she says, rubbing her temples. "and be stealthy about it, please."

"No kidnapping people, then?" Genji responds.

"Please, don't even start." she says, before she starts explaining exactly what she's asking him to get.

You stop listening to that conversation in favour of paying attention to the girl.

"Hey, sweetie," you quietly say, waving theatrically to make sure she understands what you mean. You grin when she shyly waves back. "welcome home, I guess!"

"Oh, one more thing!" Junkrat giggles, turning to Winston. "Make sure you send me and Hog when you finally decide to murder the Shimada bunch, alright? I've got some choice bombs for them, courtesy of our girl."

The resounding mistrust of leaving the girl in the junkers' hands persists over the next few weeks, judging from the amount of people that suddenly hang around them.

You're one of those people. You watch the girl grow slightly out of her shell, getting more energetic and playful as time goes on. You watch her work around the language barrier, which is apparently not a problem to the junkers, non-verbal communication being a thing they're pretty familiar with. You'd be a little impressed if you weren't positive that this is a bad idea.

You smile as you watch her attempt to remember and pronounce everyone's names with varying success (she pales when Torbjörn is introduced. She calls him some variation of 'uncle', apparently. Torbjörn seems alright with it).

You get used to seeing her perched on Junkrat's shoulders as he runs around the base, occasionally followed by Mercy's voice. "Extinguish your hair before you do that, please...!"

You watch Junkrat leave on a mission at some point, Roadhog staying behind with Chizuru.

"Odd seeing you let him go alone," you tell Roadhog as you watch Chizuru carefully colour a drawing from her spot on his lap. "you're usually together on missions, aren't you?"

"I protect the girl first. Overwatch is second." he shrugs, careful as to not disturb the girl's drawing.

You smile. Maybe she's in good hands after all.

\--------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops once in a while.

You salute, dodge the greeting bullet, move on to chase her as always - all with a dumb grin on your face.

You'll never tire of this, you think.

Except for when you tire in general, you discover one day after a long week of non-stop battling and travelling and battling and travelling and battling and travelling. You can predict Widowmaker's next move better than you can remember the last time you slept at this point.

You can't let yourself get tired. You have so much to fight, fight, fight for!

But there's only so much fighting one can do when their vision starts blurring at random intervals. Your legs feel as though they're trying to rival Roadhog in weight.

Ana would have your head if she knew how tired you are. That's one of the reasons you aren't letting it show - you have to be a beacon of light for everyone, after all! You smile, nod and run along, as Tracer should.

As long as the blue light from your chest keeps shining, you'll be awake and ready to go.

Giving up on your disobedient eyes for a moment, you focus on listening. There's no sound of gunfire anywhere near you, excluding Widowmaker's bullets that occasionally whizz past you.

A really, truly, incredibly stupid idea crosses your mind. You don't have the energy to stop yourself from acting on it.

Widowmaker gives you an odd look when she sees you've stopped. Stopped running, stopped shooting, stopped battling.

You can't show how tired you are to your teammates. But with Widowmaker, who's been consistently composed no matter what state you've battled her in, it somehow seems less important to keep the grin up.

This will most likely end really poorly, you think as you look straight at Widowmaker, her gun firmly locked onto you.

"Hey, uh," Good start. Terrific. You give her a sheepish grin. "excuse the sudden pause but... Do you think we could sit down and take a breather for a bit?"

She laughs, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Have you given up already?"

"No, that's not it - I never give up! I'm just, you know, feeling a tad under the weather today. That's all." If asking her to sit down wasn't too bad, letting her know you're tired is definitely a terrible idea. You really hope you've remembered to turn your comm off correctly.

She scoffs. "I would have thought you would be used to bad weather, being so obnoxiously English and all."

You can't stop your eyebrows from shooting up in surprise when she stops pointing the gun at you.

"Being used to it doesn't stop us from complaining," you shrug as you sit down near a wall.

Relief courses trough you as you lean back to rest on the wall, letting your legs rest.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear Widowmaker giggle from her seat beside you.

"Did the cowboy's snoring disturb your sleep again?"

Well, now that she knows you're tired, there's really no point in hiding it, you guess.

"McCree? No, not that - I'm roomed with Hanzo right now and he's, like, opposite McCree, sleep-wise. You can barely hear he's there half the time, I swear. Wakes up bright and early too, unlike Mr High noon. Likes to pace around the room at 4 a.m." you close your eyes as you keep talking. Your speech filter (which is already considered too thin and weak by some) needs rest too, you guess. "I should just send Hanzo to wake everyone next time. That'd get the cowboy right up." you snort. "In more ways than one, I'd say."

You open your eyes only to be faced with Widowmaker looking straight at you, as if to prompt you to continue. You can't help but laugh.

"You seem mighty interested in Overwatch goss, love."

"It's a prime source of blackmail material." She shrugs.

You snort. "Whatever you say." You close your eyes again, resting your head against the wall. "You know, the goss would reach you easier if you were a part of the organisation..."

"No." she says, her tone the same as always. "Quit asking."

"Your loss, love. We're pretty swell." you shrug. "Anything to tell from the Talon side?"

"I'm afraid Talon partakes in much less trivial nonsense than you."

You let out a thoughtful hum. You drink in the silence for a little while before it inevitably gets on your nerves. You've never been one for silence, even when you're tired. Makes it seem like time's stopped.

"Wanna hear some more trivial nonsense then?" you ask.

"It passes the time, I suppose." is what she replies with, and you need no further encouragement before you speak again.

You wake up to 76 looming over you.

"Why were you asleep?" he asks, beating you to the same question. "Why's your comm off again?" he continues to grill you before you can even answer. "And why was Widowmaker the one who told me where to find you?"

A tense silence hangs in the air as you sit up and look around.

You give him a grin and a shrug as you prepare your ears for the lecture coming your way.

You feel more well-rested than ever.

\--------

"Can you stop bossing me around for just a second?! I can't hear anything over your screaming, jeez!" D.Va's voice rings out trough the comm in response to whatever Jack was saying. You honestly weren't listening. These two arguing over comm has become such a staple of missions that your mind glosses over it most of the time.

"You know full well Winston put me in charge of this, Hana!" he responds. He then adds on various directions that you don't pay attention to, in favour of listening which way the gunfire is coming from.

"You do a lot of bossing around for someone who keeps refusing leadership! You're throwing me off my game!" D.Va yells back as you blink yourself past a building, appearing right in front of an unsuspecting Talon agent. "Cheers," you offer him (because you were brought up to be polite), along with one of your bombs, and you disappear again, before he fully takes in what just happened.

"What game, Hana?! All you've done so far is play around. Focus on the objective!" you hear 76 yell back, his voice echoing somewhere nearby along with the comm. "You can't just throw your mech at everything and hope it works!"

You momentarily wonder whether you should intervene before you remember this has been going on non-stop for most every mission with these two. Both of them seem to lack the ability to compromise. You wonder how they aren't tired of this.

"He singles me out!" Hana said when you asked her about it a few days ago. "You guys do just as much dumb shit as me, but only I get yelled at. It's unfair."

"There's potential in her," 76 said when you asked him the same question over TV once. "so much potential. And she goes and squanders it with all her recklessness. I want her to think for once, Tracer."

Whatever it is, you're at least glad they have enough energy on them to spare for screaming matches.

Your attention to the conversation goes away in a snap once you see a familiar black smoke float by. You snort as you dash after it.

"Cheers, edgelord!" You call out to Reaper, trying to get a good shot on him. "Gloomy as ever, I see? Cheer up, love!"

"Your death would cheer me up." he responds. You try to hold back a laugh (because you were raised to be polite, of course), but fail gloriously.

You've seen Reaper around over the past few years and while he's admittedly threatening in a lot of situations, the stereotypically 'evil' image he carefully crafts for himself lessens the effect somewhat. You take him less and less seriously with every death-related phrase he growls out.

You've amassed quite a collection of Reaper quotes by now.

You've amassed a similarly sized collection of Reaper-related injuries as well, you remember as a sharp pain sears through your arm right after you blink yourself forward.

Instead of paying attention to spooky banter, Reaper has instead noticeably been observing the way you move around throughout your encounters, to a point where he'll occasionally pinpoint the destination of your time-based movements with scary accuracy.

This fact evidently escapes your mind the moment the bullet lodges in your arm, as you instantly recall yourself back on instinct. The bullet lands on the ground with a clink, and you get to enjoy having a pain-less arm for nearly an entire second before an even sharper pain in your side knocks you onto the ground.

Twice in one day? Well, someone's clearly been practicing.

You hear your guns clatter on the ground. You must have dropped them, then.

You focus, willing your vision to stay clear, as you attempt to pull yourself off the ground, looking straight at Reaper. You're faced with the barrels of his guns as he casually takes a step towards you.

He pauses in his step when one of your guns gets in his path. You let out a choked bark of a laugh when he almost theatrically kicks it away.

"Didn't know death was..." you pause as you inexplicably run out of breath. You feel your arms getting heavier. You choose to ignore it. "death was such a petty mistress."

"You'll know a lot about death in a second." he says, and you allow yourself another bark of a laugh, expecting the gun to go off the moment he finishes stroking his ego.

Instead you watch him jump back as a large pink object suddenly appears, charging right at him.

"That'll get him. Geeeeez, you're heavier than you look!" Mech-less D.Va says, hoisting you up onto her shoulder.

You manage to get behind the corner of a nearby building before the explosion rings out.

"See? Easy mode." Hana says and you believe her with a smile, until a black blur appears in the street beside you.

Seeing how well he's learned your abilities, you really wish you'd done better to remember his.

He teleports.

You try to yell out to D.Va as a seemingly unscathed Reaper appears behind her, but your voice fails you. You just had to waste your last breath on a quip, didn't you.

Gunfire rings out at the same time as another familiar silhouette appears in the space between Reaper and a now-shocked D.Va.

The shots don't reach her. The newly appeared silhouette nearly disappears again as Soldier: 76 falls onto his side.

"Jack!" D.Va calls out, voice desperate, as she crouches over him.

You see Reaper stop in his tracks for a moment.

"Pay attention to your..." Jack speaks, voice hoarser than you remember it being. "to your surroundings... for once."

"Don't lecture me now, are you serious?!" D.Va responds, moving to cradle 76 in an attempt to shield him.

"Is this what's become of Overwatch's esteemed strike commander?" Reaper suddenly speaks up, reminding everyone of his presence. "If I'd known the leader of Overwatch was this easy to take down, I would've saved myself so much time."

"I'm not the leader anymore," 76 speaks up, ignoring D.Va's attempts to shush both him and Reaper. "Winston is."

Reaper laughs, his laugh once again rather stereotypically 'evil'. You don't have the air in you to laugh.

"Of course. Even the dumbest monkey in the zoo could do a better job than you did." he says. "You should've stayed dead along with Reyes."

"Don't," Jack instantly growls. "don't mention his name."

"Do you feel bad about it, Jack?" Reaper keeps speaking. You're equally confused and glad he's seemingly forgotten all about the previous murder-via-guns plan. "Do you feel regret, knowing you caused his death?"

Your vision is unclear, but from the determined 'Stay back' that D.Va throws out, you assume Reaper is getting closer as he speaks.

"I can tell you - the only regret he'd feel is letting you live." he says, and he's gone the next time you open your eyes.

You work hard to keep yourself upright and ignore the pain as you listen to D.Va frantically call for Mercy over the comm.

You wake up in an unfamiliar room some time later, Mercy looming over you, but looking decidedly elsewhere.

"...brought you here for cover, for the time being. Talon's moved on by now." she speaks. "We can't catch up to them anymore, I don't think."

You can't hear the exact reply, but you perk up at the voice. "Jack," you say, sitting up. Your side is sore, but it's nothing compared to what it had been before. "you're alright."

Mercy's steadying hand stays on your shoulder as you watch 76 vaguely nod, face maskless, but not any more readable than usual.

"What's the point, " you hear him nearly whisper. "we're bringing home another failure. Maybe you should lead the group from now on, Angela."

"Oh, come on," Hana's voice rings out, and only then do you notice her presence in the room. "You aren't taking Reaper's shit seriously, are you? He doesn't know what he's talking about!"

"It's all nonsense, love," you agree with her. "the bits about Reyes, especially." You watch Jack try not to flinch at the name. "It's insane drivel, that's all. I mean, how would Reaper know? It's not as though it's Reyes telling you all this."

The fact that Jack's face pales in realization and Mercy's expression twists into a regretful look, akin to a mother whose child just found the Christmas gifts a week before the holiday, simultaneously tells you that maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"I didn't want you to know," Mercy quietly says.

"Oh, for Pete's sake. Not again." you sigh, remembering the last time your brain-vomit revealed an identity.

You make a mental note to shush once in a while.

You know full well you'll ignore it.

\--------

You aren't sure how to feel when you see Satya, apparently also known as Symmetra, among a group of Vishkar members on a news report a few months after the explosion in Siberia.

On one hand, you're glad she found a place to belong again.

On the other hand, you'd rather her place to belong wasn't Vishkar.

You know full well she is basically an enemy to you, professionally speaking, but you can't help but worry for her every time you remember the way she looked after Siberia.

"Can't believe they're all mad at us but let Vishkar do their thing," Lúcio says, interrupting your thoughts. "Russia's a mess right now."

"We're the scapegoat, remember?" You remember the Petras boy meekly saying those words. "Wish we could go help out without being maimed, at least... I wonder how the squad is faring now."

"They're working trough it. They're not jailed up, at least, Russia needs workers now. Evgeni said the place is a mess, but at least the persecution didn't last long."

You perk up a bit at the name. "Evgeni? As in commander Medvedev?"

The mood is lifted as Lúcio explains that he's apparently kept in touch with a few Russian soldiers, Medvedev included. You wonder how he finds time to keep up with all these people in between work and his music. You add him onto your mental list of 'teammates with potentially shoddy sleep habits', so you'd remember to check on him, just in case.

"You really do have a talent for slipping people your e-mail address though, love." you say, memories of carefully guarding a slip of paper with said address within you pocket, years ago now. "Ever practiced sleight of hand?"

"I'm a musician, not a magician. Though my beats are pretty magical, ayyy." he says with a wide smile, and an even wider one appears when you reply with an "ayyy" of your own.

You learn keep a slip of paper with your own e-mail address on you as you encounter Vishkar engineers more and more often. Though you really don't 'encounter' them as much as you 'try your best to hide from' them.

Traps are much harder to escape than bounty hunters are.

You nearly run straight out of cover when you finally see Satya amongst their group one day.

You shrug and grin at Soldier: 76, who's holding you back by your collar, giving you the most questioning look a masked person could give. He shakes his head and lets you go, murmuring something you assume to be among the lines of 'kids these days' under his breath.

You pull off a passable effort at stealth as you sneak past teammates and Vishkar engineers alike, in hopes of meeting Symmetra alone.

You watch her carefully build, take down, then rebuild the same column no less than 5 times before you quietly approach her, taking into consideration possible teammate and Vishkar locations. Genji would be proud of you right now, you think.

"It might look better if you moved it a pinch to the right, love," you say, and feel only slightly bad about scaring her when you watch her jump.

"Satya? Who was that?" a voice speaks, covered the mechanical filter of her communicator's speakers.

You did not take that into consideration. (Genji would still be passably impressed, you think. You'll take it, at this point.)

Satya's eyebrows scrunch as she keeps her gun aimed at you, but her stance morphs into something less rigid and defensive. "A passerby. I am fine." she replies before pushing some sort of switch - turning off the device, you assume. You're well acquainted with that practice. "If you are here to sabotage my efforts, know that I will not allow--"

"No, that's not why I'm here, honest!" you look over at the structure she's working on. So far it seems to be a lone few columns on top of the rubbled foundation of a building that once was. "I wanted to know if you're alright, love."

"Why would... What is...." she mumbles before settling on a strong "I am fine." Her face loses most of the panic it exhibited a second ago. "Now, please, leave me be."

You open your mouth to protest, but the sound of someone approaching shuts you right up. Maybe you should leave after all.

"That's good to hear. But if you're ever not fine, remember that I'll be there to help out, alright? Good job on the building here." You thrust the slip of paper into her prosthetic hand, turn around and blink yourself away before she can even reply.

You aren't surprised, if perhaps a little saddened, when you receive no word from her for months after that. Maybe you aren't as good at this as Lúcio.

Nearly half a year passes before a pristinely worded email reaches you. You are surprised when the gist of the letter turns out to be 'don't worry, I'm fine, just wondering what's up with the thingamajig on your chest'. Except worded as formally as it could possibly be, of course.

You excitedly type out a basic explanation (explaining that when you said you'd always be here to help, you literally did mean always) and hit send as fast as you can.

You receive a much shorter reply the next day.

"Subject: Re: Re: Scientific Inquiry 18/02/2081

Dear Lena "Tracer" Oxton,

Your formatting is abhorrent.

Please remember to perform a thorough read of your letter, or enlist the assistance of a spell-checker, to avoid further spelling mistakes.

Thank you for the explanation.

Sincerely,

Satya Vaswani"

You smile and make a mental reminder to ask Pharah to help you out with the formatting thing later today.

\--------

You spot her on rooftops once in a while.

You grin as the greeting bullet whizzes past - close, but not close enough. You face the direction of the shooter, salute, and the dance begins.

The actual rhythm of the dance has changed a lot as both of you get more and more used to each other's movements. Sometimes it gets to the point where a passerby might think it to be a rehearsed fight choreography.

Sometimes you stop fighting altogether, just to sit down and chill. You can't tell whether Lúcio would be proud or upset about that.

Occasionally bringing an honest laugh out of her with your jokes makes you feel just as accomplished as gaining the upper hand in battle.

She's warmer than she looks, you realise after you apparently fall asleep on her shoulder during a particularly stressful week. You wonder if your cheeks look as warm as they are after that. ("Don't tell dad," you plead with her when she points out your talent at sleeping on the battlefield.)

You hear Hana refer to her as an 'emotionless bitch' once and you have to will yourself from arguing. You visualise the surprise that crosses her face when you get a particularly good blink in. The oddly charming laugh after you tell a good joke. The shift in her eye as she throws innuendos at you. The flash of disdain when you call her Amélie.

There's so much of her you still haven't seen, you realise.

And so you keep going - keep saluting, keep smiling, keep dodging the greeting bullet - close, but not close enough.

Except the one time it's just close enough.

Maybe even too close, you think as a searing pain in your chest trips up your balance.

You don't remember how to recall yourself back in time before your head collides with the concrete railing in front of you.

And then there's nothing.

When you come to, you're being held by hard, metallic arms and are faced with a seemingly endless amount of light hair. You attempt to raise yourself up to get a better look at your surroundings and get eased back down as soon as you let out a whimper.

Sharp pain.

"Easy, girl." Torbjörn's voice rings out. "Don't push yourself now, Mercy's right around the corner."

You manage to meek out a "Where..." and then a follow up "What..." before you get shushed again.

"We're nearing base now. You got shot - nasty job, I'm telling you. The spider sniper brought you to me. Nearly scared the wrench of my arm, I swear..." he explains, said wrench-arm keeping you from falling as he walks. "Didn't think she was capable of emotion, but there she was, quaking in her boots. Didn't have the heart to shoot her, even."

You make a sorry attempt at a nod, and let him carry you in silence for a while. You don't notice your eyelids getting heavy until Torbjörn points it out.

"Hey! Don't sleep now, might not wake up again. The doctor's almost here." his voice shooting you awake in a second. You find it a little funny to see this sleepyhead waking you for once.

You muster up all the power in your vocal chords for one sentence.

"Tell me a story." you croak out, understandably enough, you hope.

"A story? Better not make it a bedtime story then." he laughs.

The rough grumble of Torbjörn's voice as he recounts an adventure from long before you were born keeps you awake and focused right until the worried face of a familiar doctor fills your view.

\--------

You receive orders for three days of bed rest after the shot. You try to argue that you're fine, until the whimper you let out after shifting the wrong way kills any possibility of Angela believing you.

You don't get time to be bored either way, you realise when you see visitors pile in one after another.

Reinhardt checks in periodically, bringing games, books, food, Torbjörn - whatever he deems best for the time being.

Zenyatta comes in bright and early, his aura easing you into a calmer state. You call for him whenever the pain becomes too strong to smile trough.

Hanzo visits and stays for 2 whole minutes before awkwardly trying to leave. "Stay for tea?" you ask him, and stay he does.

"You got blood on my beard," Torbjörn says as soon as he walks into the room. You laugh and then laugh even more when Mercy starts scolding him as she enters the room after him.

"You tell a mean story, love." You tell him once both the scolding and the laughter die down.

"Of course I do! Anytime." he nods. "Just don't ask the tall idiot about that story. He tells it wrong."

You make a mental reminder to ask Reinhardt about it at a time when your humble room isn't in the path of the scuffle that it will inevitably provoke.

Bastion tries their best. They come into your room, listen to you explain the injury and beep as sympathetically as they can. They hand you an apple before leaving again.

Reinhardt occasionally shoves a screen into your face whenever someone from other bases calls.

"What did you run into this time?" Winston teases as his worried gorilla face comes into view on the screen.

"A bullet, love. I ran into a bullet. Did the others not tell you?" you smile at him, before calming down his worries.

You feel well enough to walk around by the time day 2 of bed rest rolls around. You find yourself sneaking past Mercy, who most likely lets you get away with it. You know exactly how good she is at keeping someone bedridden.

You're strolling back towards the kitchen to get some tea, enjoying the way your feet feel as you move lightly, step by step, when a voice snaps you out of your rhythm.

"Could someone get Widowmaker off the building before Hanzo shoots her down?" Torbjörn's voice rings out from a nearby room.

You make an extra cup of tea before you move back to your room.

Widowmaker is sitting on your windowsill, face carefully void of emotion.

"Tea, love?" you ask, putting the mugs of tea down on the tiny table. She doesn't respond. The blank expression remains. "No? Alright."

You sit down on your bed and take a sip of tea. You'd think she would've had something to say after making all this effort to visit you here.

"Did you want your bullet back?" you ask, putting the mug down again. "I got it after the doc dug it out of me."

"No. Bullets don't get a second chance." she finally speaks up.

"I guess I'll keep it then." you shrug. "Maybe I'll turn it into a cool pendant. Carry it it with me as a reminder of sorts."

"That you got shot?" she raises an eyebrow.

"That I need to fight harder."

She smiles, the tiniest of laughs escaping her lips. "You come up with such gruesome ideas, for someone of such distinctly good alignment."

You shrug again, taking another sip of tea.

"Torbjörn told me you were scared."

"That was not me." she responds. "That's not who I am anymore."

You follow her eyes around the room before you respond.

"Well, is the person who came here to check on me you?"

"I..." an unreadable expression flashes on her face before it gets masked by the usual indifference. "I simply came to check whether a shot like that was really enough to take you down."

"Takes a lot more than that, love." you smile. "Don't think you oughta go easy on me next time just cause of this, either!"

"I wouldn't dream of it." she stands up. "Adieu, chérie."

And with that, she's gone again.

\--------

It's a minute after six a.m.

It's a minute later than usual because you actually contemplated going back to sleep for a little while, before you remembered that not only do you have your usual waking duties to do today, but you're also in charge of babysitting a little bugger. Then you jumped out of bed in an instant.

It's as good a day to change the world as any, after all!

You get trough your morning routine in record speed, only stopping to look at yourself in the mirror.

Still the same as ever, even if the rushed routine shows somewhat.

You give yourself a big grin and dash out of the room.

You open the door to Ana's room shake her awake by her shoulder with a soft greeting before moving to the tinier inhabitant of the room. You smile as little brown eyes open and slowly turn towards you.

"Good morning, love!" you greet her. "Wanna go wake everyone up with me?"

Of course she does. Who wouldn't, really?

That's a rhetorical question.

She nods and you maneuver her onto your back. You've noticed she likes to perch on the junkers' shoulders, but you don't think your shoulders are wide enough to be comfortable. Your back will have to do then.

You vaguely hear Ana say something about "maybe getting dressed first" but you've already sprinted out the door by the time you realise what she'd said. Whoops. Well, you'll come back to her room for tea afterwards.

The base you're in right now is rather expansive compared to what you've had the last few months- you could have half of the current Overwatch live here, with space to boot. Your legs are thankful as they jump trough the halls.

You smile as Chizuru's laugh rings trough the air.

With the junkers being sent out on more dangerous missions once in a while, nearly everyone in base has had a turn in babysitting the girl by now, all with their own strategies and opinions on her upbringing.

Ana goes for an odd mix between diligently working on her language skills and intensely grandma-ing the girl. Whatever she's doing works, you guess, because Chizuru's got a surprisingly alright grasp of English by now.

Ana also likes to show her off to Mercy and Pharah with a smile that conveys encouragement bordering on intimidation.

Reinhardt, who can basically pick the girl up with one hand, plays with her without ever getting tired, his raucous laughter punctuating every babysitting opportunity he gets. He also apparently tells the best bedtime stories.

Hanzo teaches her about the clan's history. Genji teaches her not to take it all to heart.

You all make jokes when it comes to 76's very dad-like way of treating recruits, but seeing him with an actual child is an almost over-saturated caricature of parenting. You watch Chizuru heartily follow him around the base sometimes, his step deliberately slowed down to match her speed.

You, on the other hand, like to match her to your speed.

Well, as close to it as you can, safely.

You'll make a sprinter out of this kid yet.

Despite its size, the base is relatively empty for now - a group of agents are coming back from a mission later today.

"Hog and Jamie back today?" Chizuru speaks, head resting right near your ear.

"They will be!" you tell her. "Soon. You've got me to hang out with for the time being though!"

You get to the first room on the wake-up list - Lúcio - and spend a good ten minutes dancing around with him before moving on.

You say 'good morning' to Athena as you enter Winston's room, only to find him asleep on his table as expected. You put down the plate of sandwiches you'd made earlier and get to waking him.

"I'm up. I'm up, Tracer, you can stop yelling now" he says as you go on yelling for a little bit longer, just to make sure. You stop when he notices the girl, who seems to be trying to break off a corner of one of the sandwiches. "Oh, hello, Chizuru. Nice seeing you up this early."

"You could learn something from her, you know." you giggle at the ape as he breaks off half of a sandwich before handing it over to the girl.

"Any info on Vishkar today?" he asks once the sandwich is gone.

"Nothing so far," you shrug.

He didn't outright question it when you suddenly became his prime source of information regarding Vishkar movements. He tried to awkwardly skirt around the issue for nearly an entire month before it was all made clear to him by Ana, who'd figured you out within a day, going as far as remembering Satya's name, even if she'd only seen her in Russia as far as you know.

Satya gets embarrassed and confused (in an orderly and pristinely formatted way, of course) when you bring up the fact that Ana asks how she's doing every morning over tea. She takes a lot longer to respond to your letters anytime you bring up the possibility of someone caring about her well-being. You bring it up anyway.

You move on from Winston's room to waking Reinhardt, who spends a little while lovingly tossing Chizuru around and then tossing you around too, for good measure.

You poke your head into Jack's room only to find it curiously empty. You shrug before moving on.

"Alright, love, do you wanna draw a dumb cowboy face with me?" you ask once you reach McCree's door and peel off today's post-it note.

"Not dumb," Chizuru says as she starts doodling on the note. You raise an eyebrow at her. "...Maybe a little dumb."

"Are y'all talking smack about me now?" McCree says when he suddenly opens the door. "In front of my room? Rude."

"Whoa, love! Well aren't you up early today? Look at you, you've got your hat on and everything!" you smile.

"Sleep didn't go so great," he shrugs. "thought I might as well get out of bed before you get to yellin' me up." he goes on as he hands his hat over to Chizuru after she asks for it.

You grin at her after you stick the post-it note on the door. "Run," you say. "I'll hold him back."

"Oh, not this again," you hear McCree grumble as the now usual McCree hat chase begins, Chizuru long gone down the hall before he slips out of your grasp.

The day goes by quickly - as quickly as the girl runs down the hall. Which isn't really a surprise. Most days do that now.

For the first time in your life you find yourself wishing time would slow down just a little.

The base feels instantly livelier once the returning agents come trough the door. Chizuru outright leaps from your arms as soon as Junkrat comes into view.

"Oy, Cheese! Ya miss your oldies?" he laughs, picking her up. You're reminded of exactly how gigantic Junkrat is compared to the tiny giggling child in his arms.

"It's disrespectful to mangle her name like that simply because you cannot pronounce it," Hanzo says as he walks in behind Junkrat. McCree looks as though he's about to piss himself in excitement.

"I can pronounce it just fine! 's a nickname, mate." Junkrat replies. He's not wrong - you'e heard him pronounce the name without a problem before. His pronunciation's okay. His shoddy memory, on the other hand...

Though you must admit, the nickname's sort of stuck - you've caught yourself calling the girl 'Cheese' a couple times.

"I am not entirely convinced that's all it is." Hanzo sort of shrugs, brows furrowed.

"Shut your gob, Ham." Junkrat says and you hear even Winston let out a little giggle. Hanzo shuts his gob as told.

"Oh, right!" Junkrat suddenly speaks up again. "We brought someone home with us! It's not even a baby this time."

You join McCree in the near-piss state as you watch Zarya walk in trough the door.

"Hello," she says and you've already begun the jump-hug motion.

Now the base feels truly lively.

\--------

You spot 76 slinking back into base a good 2 days later, looking distraught.

"I'll spare you the whole rant about disappearing without notice - Ana or someone else will have that covered, I'm sure." you tell him as you sit down next to him. "What's got you all dazed, love?"

There's a moment of silence and you begin thinking he's not going to respond at all.

"It's Reaper," he says, looking nowhere in particular.

You've heard Jack complain about Reaper a lot before. This feels like it's a completely different conversation. You keep your mouth shut for now.

"He's Reyes," he goes on. "there's no doubt now."

You still feel a little guilty about unknowingly causing that realisation.

You remember Gabriel Reyes. Dark, broody, scarily competent. You don't think he ever liked you much.

"...Wasn't he supposed to be dead? Back at Swiss?" you ask.

"So was I," Jack shrugs.

"Ah. Good point." you say, looking off into nothingness along with 76.

You let yourself reminisce a little while before the silence gets too tense for you.

"How about we bring him back home then?" you ask.

You Jack's stance change. It takes you a moment to identify this new emotion as pure determination.

Your mind jumps to the image of a certain sniper's silhouette and you suddenly feel just as determined.

"Bring me along next time you sneak off." you tell 76. "We'll do this together, alright?"

His visor stops looking at nothing for the first time within this conversation to look at you. He nods.

You grin.

\--------

Training has always been one of your favourite things to do at base.

Even if you miss the training area you had at the old base, with all its equipment and technological abilities, the actual activity hasn't gotten any less fun, as shabby as the makeshift training areas can be (the shabbiness adds to the charm of it, often times).

"I'm glad you're having fun, Tracer, but I'd rather you focused on what you're doing." 76 grumbles at you when you shoot a bullet waaaaay off target, lost in your thoughts.

"Sorry, daaaaad." you smile at him. You can just visualise the rolling eyes behind the visor. You move to shoot once more and get about three seconds into the action before he starts correcting your posture.

Despite continuously refusing leadership of the organisation (Winston still asks him, once in a while), 76 takes charge of training whenever he's around. Whether it's the fact that he really can't shake the impulse of bossing people around, or the fact that shoddy shooting posture continuously bothers him at all times, you're really glad to have him help you out.

No amount of Athena's technological wizardry back at the old base could ever replace the continuous whinging of Soldier 76, after all.

You smile as you hear Hana's voice yell back at 76 when he goes to correct whatever she's doing. "Stop nagging, oh my god." you manage to catch.

You also manage to catch the smile that lights up Hana's face when Jack praises her for getting it right a little while later.

But Soldier 76 isn't the only reason you've been looking forward to training today.

You make a sprint for Zarya the moment the word 'spar' is thrown out.

"Care to have a go, love?" you ask her, grinning at her. A smile graces her face as she nods.

You've found that the best way to get to know a new recruit is to spar with them. You remember facing a reluctant Hanzo, laughing to tears after your battle with Lúcio devolved into a straight up tickle fight (Jack wasn't as amused), Junkrat losing interest midway trough your spar and so on.

But even with all that, you've been especially excited about sparring Zarya.

"You are fast, I will give you that," she says after you dart around her attempts at getting a hit on you, peppering in a kick or two every once in a while.

You laugh as you keep moving. You keep laughing even as she eventually manages to grab you by the shoulder.

"Got you," she smiles.

You remember her strong arms carrying you trough the battlefield. Those arms are just as strong now, as they're straight up launching you across the room.

You get up and run back at her, continuing the fight in order to gauge her strength. She has a whole lot of strength, of that you're sure.

"Me next please," you hear Pharah say as she watches you soar across the room for the third time.

Your fight is eventually put to an end when Reinhardt sprints into the room with a roar.

"You! Arm wrestle me, right now!"

You laugh as you watch him instantly get into a fight with Pharah, who had called dibs and Lúcio, who had apparently 'totally called second dibs'.

Jack sighs from his spot at the wall, shaking his head fondly.

Training really is one of the best base activities.

\--------

When it rains, it pours, you've always said.

And right now you're in the middle of a squall.

You'd smiled as you realised Overwatch persecution had gradually been lessening as the media moved its sights elsewhere. "See, Jack? I told you we'd be good at stealth." you grin at 76 and watch him shake his head.

The grin gets wiped off your face as an already unsuccessful mission brings more trouble when some agents show up in pictures on the news that night (yourself only featured as an unidentifiable blur), causing alarm and a drastic increase in bounty hunters in the area.

You can't help but avoid looking Jack in the eyes that day. You feel like a disappointment. A fast, blurry disappointment.

When things go bad, you go to Zenyatta.

You go to Zenyatta and you try to get into the whole meditation thing every time, to no avail. Maybe it's the fact that you can't sit still at a time like this. Maybe it's the fact that you can't sit still ever, really.

"Wish I could be as calm as you right now, love," you say, mindlessly pinging Zenyatta's orbs around with your hand and watching them ease back into place. You hear Genji laugh at you from his spot on the other site of Zenyatta.

"You're like a cat," he says. You watch the cyborg cringe when you 'nya' at him.

"Do not pretend you have not done the same thing before," Zenyatta says, lightly flinging one of the orbs right at Genji. "you were doing it earlier today, in fact. These orbs do not forget, Genji."

"It really does calm you down though," you say as you continue messing with the orbs. "gets rid of your worries and all the like."

"You need not focus on worries, Tracer." Zenyatta says, turning to you. "No matter what, you will live to see a brighter future take place."

You sit on those words for a little while.

"I want all of you to live the bright future with me though," you mutter.

"Then let us all do our best to shine together." Zenyatta says.

And shine you do. Both figuratively and literally of course, as the light from your chronal accelerator reminds you every time your sights are pointed even slightly downwards.

You'll shine forever, relatively speaking.

You do wish your shine didn't make you such an obvious target though.

"Your little nightlight is attracting flies, chérie." Widowmaker says when a gaggle of bounty hunters interrupts your usual dance for the umpteenth time.

"Can't exactly switch it off though. Someone's got to make sure you sleep easy, love!" you laugh right back at her as you realise there's a lot more of these guys than you'd expected. You start moving back, trying to shake them with sharp turns and the occasional blink forward, Widowmaker running along beside you.

"I'll sleep when I am dead." she responds.

Better make sure she doesn't sleep anytime soon, then. You need all the help you can use right now.

Help is exactly what you find as you round another corner only to see a familiar omnic fighting back against another group of hunters.

When things go bad, you go to Zenyatta, after all.

"Cheers, love," you say to both the omnic and the orb that instantly flies at you. You feel focused and calm.

Now that Zenyatta's here, everything will be okay, you're sure.

You're sure of it, even as a particularly nasty shot to your arm hinders your aim for a little while. You focus on the orb and feel the pain slowly subside.

You're still sure of it even as the amount of enemies doesn't seem to lessen as much as you'd like, leaving you vastly outnumbered. You're working on it. It's alright, Zenyatta's here.

You assure yourself that it'll all be fine even when you notice Zenyatta's form slump as the attacks get to him. You move to protect him as he keels over onto the ground. He's still moving, you assure yourself as you fight off hunters with pure focus.

"No matter what, you'll live to see a brighter future, love! Trust me." you say when he vaguely looks up at you.

Even without the orb, you keep your mind focused on the task at hand.

Your focus is completely broken the second you hear Widowmaker let out a bloodcurdling scream behind you. You turn around and bolt behind the corner you last saw her.

"Amélie!" you instinctively yell, and instantly regret as you watch a myriad of emotions pass through her face before she shoots her grappling hook out and swings away, holding on to her side as if to keep the bleeding down.

You wish you could assure yourself it was only because of the wound that she ran off. You know a little too well that calling her by name didn't help the situation.

You bolt back around the corner and stop in your tracks as you realise some things are missing.

Notably, most of the bounty hunters and an omnic monk.

They took him.

You aren't sure anything will be fine anymore.

\--------

You're beginning to think you never knew what the word 'calm' even means, as Overwatch descends into utter chaos within a couple hours after Zenyatta disappears.

Panicked voices over the comm layer over each other, effectively rendering every word incomprehensible, as you run trough the streets looking for a sign, a hint, anything that could at least assure you he's alright.

The world starts to blur and darken as you run, and run, and run.

Nothing.

You nearly fall off a railing as your legs give out. You stay on the ground for a while, not sure where you can really go from here.

There's nowhere these legs can take you now.

You let them carry you back to base.

Winston flies in from a different continent a couple hours later, eyes bloodshot and sleepless.

6 a.m. comes and goes as hours pass, the cacophony of desperate voices within base melting together into an incomprehensible mess with absolutely no headway made. Words like 'demand' and 'ransom' barely register any meaning anymore as your mind races faster than you can keep up.

Torbjörn gets decked in the face within the first few hours by Junkrat, of all people, who then gets dragged away by Roadhog, and then there's yelling again.

You see Genji nearly cut a wall in half, angrier than you've seen him in years, before you get up from your spot on the floor. Your legs might not have anywhere to carry you right now, but you can sure use them to lead someone else.

You keep a gentle grip on Genji's shoulders as you silently lead him to the room you vaguely remember him sleeping in last.

You carefully sit him down on the bed and slowly turn towards the door.

A hand stops you by the wrist.

"Please stay," a filtered voice meeks out.

You move to sit down beside him. You don't protest when he leans against you.

You wait until his breath has calmed down before you let your eyes drift closed.

It's dark again when your eyes open next.

You take in your surroundings. There's a still sleeping Genji on your shoulder, a blanket draped over you, and a sniper climbing in through the window.

You don't have a gun on you right now, you realise as your eyes meet Widowmaker's.

"If you've come to berate me for calling you Amélie earlier, come back another time, love," you whisper, careful not to wake the cyborg. "I'm really not in the mood right now, and my friend's gone missing, and noone knows what to do and...."

And you're spouting nonsense, that's what. You will back a sob. You will not cry in front of this woman.

You watch a few emotions flicker on her face before she speaks (quietly, of course. Not waking the dragon is the sensible thing to do).

"I... I put a bug on him," she whispers.

What? Your forehead feels odd before you realise that's because your eyebrows have furrowed themselves.

"On the omnic. It's from when I shot you - I followed him to your base then," she continues, pulling out a device of some sort. "so it is a little old, but..."

"Please, tell me it works," says Genji, who may have been awake longer than you realised.

It does work.

You and Genji follow Widowmaker through the dark streets as she leads you towards the signal.

"You're trusting her?" you quietly ask Genji, having not anticipated him to follow along so blindly.

"This is all we have." he responds. "If it is a trap then so be it."

"It would be more elaborate if it was a trap," says Widowmaker from her spot in front of you. You keep forgetting how good her hearing is. "I would have gathered so many agents by now if I had known leading you away was this simple."

You follow her to the roof of a building, where she stops and looks around.

"This is it," she says, pointing at a large industrial building.

You barely open your mouth to say something before Genji speeds off right into the building.

"He just... he just ran in," is what comes out instead of whatever you were going to say before Genji sped off. You turn to Widowmaker, who looks as though she was about to leave. "Go after him, love, please," you plead with her. "I'll call for backup."

You watch her face go trough the same distaste-hesitation conflict for the umpteenth time today before she dashes after Genji.

You've never hoped someone had their comm on as badly as you do now.

"Tracer?" Winston's voice answers. "Where are you? It's 4 a.m. and--"

"There's no time for a chat, love!" you interrupt him. "We need help!"

"What?"

"We know where Zenyatta is!"

"What?" Winston's voice sounds fully awake now.

You yell out the coordinates fervently. "Genji's already run inside!"

You stop to look at the building for a second as Winston commands other agents into action. You can already hear commotion from inside.

"I'm going in after him." you say.

You hear Winston saying the word "Wait--" before you turn the comm off.

You take a deep breath and run in.

The building is much larger than it had seemed from the outside, floors upon floors burrowing into the ground, which you quickly discover as you run into one dead end after another.

You follow the sound of commotion, but by the time you find Genji the noise has spread throughout the entire structure.

You watch Genji attempt to slice a wall in half in frustration for the second time today after you hit another dead end.

"Come on, love," you say, raising him to his feet after he falls to the ground. "Let's keep moving."

Not only has backup arrived, it has made considerable progress, you find out when you run into Pharah, arms full of orbs.

"Found these," she explains as she runs alongside you. "no luck on the monk yet."

You don't run into Widowmaker. You hope that's because she bailed and not because one of the backup agents shot her down. You know you were in a hurry and all, but you really should've told Winston she's not here to fight.

You don't think she is, at least.

Your heart races as you spot a familiar sandaled foot behind a couple hunters and what appears to be the hunched form of Junkrat.

You knock the hunters out in record speed. Later on, when your heart isn't going a million miles per hour, you might even think back to this moment as a crowning display of how fast you can really be.

Genji, on the other hand, goes straight for Junkrat, yelling too fast for you to decipher.

"Woah, mate, are you out of your mind?" Junkrat yells right back. " Would you just hold on a second?! I'm trying to to fix him here!"

You look to one end of the corridor, then the other (one of them has distinct marks of explosions. Junkrat must have carried the omnic here.), only to find the similar sight of a group of very angry people coming your way. You guess reinforcements have come in, then.

You call Genji's attention to your surroundings and watch him spring to action only a moment before you do.

You shield Junkrat and Zenyatta as much as you can from one side, Genji taking the other. Your arms feel heavier with every punch, your legs with every kick, but you keep on going. And so do the enemies, who have you beat in quantity no matter how you look at it.

You're struggling to get air back into your lungs after one of the guys finally gets a good hit on you, when loud roars suddenly echo trough the building.

You watch the enemies struggle to escape as Hanzo's dragons advance trough the hall, twisting and turning as they obliterate everyone in the way.

It never gets any less impressive.

The roars muffle whatever Junkrat is saying behind you. A square of blue lights shine back at you when you turn around.

Relief courses through the same way unintelligible noise courses through your eardrums when you turn the comm on.

"He's safe," you say and let yourself laugh as the unintelligible noise becomes a whole lot happier sounding.

The laughs continue, light and airy, as you celebrate a job well done on your way back to base.

"I posses enough hands to high-five everyone." You hear Zenyatta say, voice still a slight bit off pitch, but undeniably happy. Your face is sore from smiling as you look over to where the omnic is being carried by Genji (whose sword is safely tucked away in place, and not, in fact, in a wall).

The sun rises over the city, illuminating the streets.

It's a bright day.

Your mind wanders back to Widowmaker, who disappeared without a trace, as if she'd never been a part of this in the first place. You wonder what was going on in her mind as this was happening. You never got to thank her, you realise.

You move to do exactly that the next time you see her silhouette on a rooftop. You manage to take one step towards her before someone else jumps up onto the roof, effectively cutting in line.

You watch Widowmaker raise her gun in confusion as Genji appears in front of her.

"Thank you." he says, punctuating it with a slight bow. "I will not forget this."

"I would rather you did." she replies.

"I will not. Tough luck." Genji shrugs.

Widowmaker's poker-face rests in place.

"You have 5 seconds to get off this roof." she says, pointing her rifle straight at him.

"I need no more." the cyborg says, giving one final wave before disappearing.

You wait until she looks back at you to begin your patented jump-hug maneuver.

"Thank you, love," you say as she gets both her balance and her poker-face back into place.

"That was not..." she begins, then stops again. Her voice is quiet the second time around. "I do not know why I did that."

She avoids meeting your eyes.

"That's alright." you tell her, voice matching hers in volume. "I don't expect this to be a regular occurrence, love. What matters is you helped us out. You helped me out a whole lot."

"Helping Overwatch is not what I am supposed to do.", she says, still letting you cling onto her.

"Is it what you want to do though?" She stops for a second. The fact that she actually has to think about it is progress alone.

"No."

"That's fine," you say as you let go of her. You raise up one of your guns. "Care for a dance then?"

She smiles as she raises her own firearm.

"Only if I get to lead."

\--------

With the amount of information you receive concerning Vishkar movements (which isn't a whole lot - Satya's careful not to breach her restrictions. Well, any more than she already has, that is), it's a rare occurrence to actually see Symmetra in the flesh.

The first time you see her since the e-mail exchange began, you barely get your excitement under control to give her the usual subtle wave. You lose your shit all over again when she, very, very subtly waves back.

"Not to hate on your friend circle, but who are you wavin' at?" Lúcio asks, sidestepping towards you.

"Oh! No one in particular. Just that bird over there." you point at a very innocuous pigeon on the corner of the road. "It's a swell bird. Looks smart."

Lúcio gives you the most skeptical look he can manage. So does the smart pigeon.

"Alright, whatever you say, girl." Lúcio shrugs, then turns to the street where the Vishkar group stood moments ago. "Cause if it was the Vishkar people, oh man. That'd be a bad choice of friend. They ain't good for a free bird like you, y'know?"

You take a moment to look at the pigeon upon hearing the words 'free bird'. It flies off. Smart move, pigeon. You turn back to Lúcio, who goes on.

"They're the kind to put a curfew on deep talk time. They'd repurpose your trust into a shiny new town square. You know what I mean? They're bad news."

You look over to the direction where Symmetra had waved back at you, careful to keep the motion invisible to both her teammates and yours, and you find yourself disagreeing with Lúcio.

You open your mouth to say something, and then promptly shut it again as Pharah calls your attention and starts explaining the general strategy of the day's mission.

You catch glimpses of Symmetra in the streets that day, careful to keep yourself hidden from the rest of the Vishkar people. You watch her diligently work on structure after structure with impressive focus. You don't feel any less proud about calling her your friend.

"I'd like to approach her myself one of these days," Winston says when Symmetra is brought up over one of your routine chronal accelerator maintenance checks. "perhaps bring up the, uh, possibility of working with Overwatch? We could really appreciate having someone with her skill set on our side..."

You give the ape a weak little smile.

You know she'd decline.

"My willingness to partake in a mutual share of information does not mean that my opinion of your organization is positive." She wrote to you once. "The Vishkar corporation is working to create a harmonious world for all of us. I would rather not have to deal with Overwatch getting in the way of our goal. That is all."

Despite coming across as reserved when it comes to most subjects, Symmetra's belief in Vishkar shines trough loud and clear.

You remember how lost and confused she'd looked the one time you met her without any other Vishkar worker around, and you mind her working with the company slightly less, willing the voice in your head that defies Vishkar down to a whisper.

You remember the way Lúcio speaks of Vishkar. The remarks Zarya and the others throw out. Satya's devastated face again, hopeless and scared. Feeling like a traitor - exiled.

As much as you'd love to have her here, you don't want to put her trough that again.

"She has a place she belongs, love." you tell Winston that day.

You understand the feeling - you'll be here until the day Overwatch goes down. Which will be never, as long as your legs are capable of running and your chronal accelerator shines.

You thank Satya for every bit of information she gives you, making sure to memorise as much as you can - whether it's Viskar base coordinates or her favourite flavour of ice-cream. You've systematically amassed a pretty good understanding of Vishkar base locations and work rhythm by now.

You remind Satya you'll always be around to help her out every time you remember the state she was in after the tragedy in Siberia.

"Your help is not necessary." she always responds, before ending her letter with the usual polite sign-off (followed by the specific name of her position in Vishkar, somehow spanning multiple lines. You could never replicate this part of the formal letter agenda - 'Overwatch girl, runs real fast' is the best you could come up with).

You're reading one of those sign-offs on a jet to a mission somewhere in Mexico (you wish you could say you were listening when Winston explained it fully. You heard "Los muertos" and you assumed you'd gotten the gist of it.) and you can't help but smile.

The hum of the jet creates a nice ambiance as you type out a reply, wishing her good luck - both on whatever work she's doing in South Africa and on her trip back to the main base this evening.

You're hoping to snag some good luck for yourself today, too.

You've barely hit the send button before you notice a new letter in your inbox. Your eyebrows scrunch into a confused frown when you notice the new letter is from you.

"A thank you for the information is in order, assumedly.

Vishkar is no longer a threat to you.

Stay on your toes, Lena Oxton."

You barely get time to think about it, before the jet lands and suddenly you're lead out into the battlefield once more.

You've barely driven away the last of the gang members when you're urgently ushered back onto the jet by Soldier 76, whose comm you can hear from a mile away.

When your playful "What's the rush, love?" gets instantly shut down with a serious "Get in the jet, Tracer." you realise something may or may not be going down.

You do not expect it to be spontaneous omnic attacks.

You pale the moment the words "Vishkar bases" leave Jack's mouth.

The sight of Satya's hopeless face haunts your mind.

You feel airsick for the first time in forever.

\--------

Rubble takes up the space where Vishkar's main base stood mere hours ago.

Rubble and silence.

You carefully tread trough the desolate flatland that might have once been the main hall of the building. The meager rubble that might have made up the main offices Satya spoke highly of. Only your steps break the silence that has replaced Satya's beloved foyer, commons room, library - every bit of the architecture she'd enthused about. Every bit of home.

Not a single omnic blocks your path.

Only silence.

"Must've been one hell of a bomb," Junkrat says, voice wistful.

The bomb.

The omnic attacks took all of you by surprise, showing even more coordination than last time. Where the attacks in Russia had slowly edged closer to Volskaya, today's attackers didn't waste any time, systematically destroying every Vishkar base you can think of without pausing along the way, then vanishing without a trace as soon as they were done.

That, and they brought bombs.

Strong bombs, as the wasteland before you shows.

"Reminds me of home," you vaguely hear Roadhog say, before your attention is called away elsewhere when you spot a person among the rubble.

You don't let your legs start shaking as you approach the curled up person you now recognize to be Symmetra. You steel your nerves as she turns to face you, expression ten times darker than the one that had been haunting your mind.

"I'm here to help," you whisper, extending a hand towards her.

Your help is needed.

\--------

Overwatch isn't a stranger to unlikely strays being brought in. Hell, you yourself probably count as one of them - you spent entirely too much being completely astray in time before Winston brought you here in one complete corporeal piece.

But you don't think any assimilate with as much difficulty as the Vishkar survivors.

Besides Satya, who spends the jet ride to base trying to calculate the number of possible survivors and being terrified of the low, low number she comes up with, you bring home two more architects who had accompanied Symmetra on her work that day.

The first is a spindly girl by the name of Kyra, who eyes everyone carefully, the mistrust evident on her face. She looks no older than D.Va.

The second is even younger - having merely been a promising apprentice of the art of hard light, 14 year old Anakh looks outright terrified within the moments that the signature Vishkar poker face drops.

You watch the three of them, trying to balance personal space and huddling together at the same time, and realise you have your work cut out for you. You need to get your welcoming game up.

Yet not one bit of you is unsure whether they'll fit in. After 'taming' Hanzo, who tried to jump out of a window within his first day at base, you're pretty sure anything is possible.

You'll make sure this trio think so too.

You watch them struggle with everything, from accepting food and hospitality, to hearing the usual level of commotion within the base. You keep a smile up for them.

"We aren't going to join Overwatch, you know," the Kyra girl says to you one day. "Overwatch is an immoral organisation that causes chaos in the path of order." she rattles off confidently, as if reading from a script.

"We are a tad chaotic, I'll admit." You laugh softly. "And noone's forcing you to join, love. Just stay here until it all calms down, alright? We want you to be safe."

Her scripted confidence falters a tad. "Why are you doing this then? We are your enemy..."

"Overwatch works to help you just as much as anyone else." you shrug. "We weren't that different in our goals, you know."

You see Satya look over to you from across the room, paying full attention as Kyra explains exactly how different she finds your goals.

You smile as you shake your head.

"That's not what I meant, love. Think about it. You work to ensure a good future for the world - order and whatnot, sure. Overwatch works to ensure a good present for us all. It's not too far off, is it?" you say after Kyra finishes her explanation. "Besides, you'd be surprised how many different things people fight for here. See Mei over there?"

Mei waves with a smile when all four of you, now including Anakh, who'd joined the conversation some point during Kyra's explanation, turn your sights towards her.

"She fights to save environment." you wave back at Mei, before turning your sights elsewhere. "Hanzo over there?"

Hanzo very much does not wave when all of you turn your sights towards him, glaring at you with mild alarm.

"Redemption." you wave at Hanzo with a cheeky grin before moving on to the junkers. "And them? Honestly, I've no clue!"

"I am not sure they have a clue, either." Satya mutters under her breath.

"Perhaps not! Though my point is, fighting for order or harmony or Vishkar isn't exactly off the realm of possibilities here in Overwatch, you see?"

You can't decipher the looks that flash on their faces during the slight pause that ensues. The younger one speaks up, breaking the silence.

"What do you fight for?" they ask meekly.

"Me?" you grin. "I fight for Overwatch."

You make sure they know the doors are open as soon as the panic over the omnic attacks has died down.

You smile when none of them leave.

\--------

Things seem like they're on the road to calming down right until the discovery of the first Vishkar secret warehouse provides the equivalent of a sharp turn off a cliff. Everyone, from government agencies, to self-proclaimed Vishkar successors, to most of all gangs, seem to gravitate towards collecting as much of the left over resources as possible.

It all evolves into a big, messy gang war once the second and third warehouses are uncovered. A myriad of gangs from all over the world seem to throw whatever they can at the warehouses in order to claim its contents for themselves. You encounter gangs you haven't even heard of within your first attempt at calming things down.

Which is a shitshow all in its own right, really. Zarya comes home with a huge gash in her back that day, a trail of blood following her. Symmetra, who is excused from the actual fights in favour of working to remember locations of as many warehouses as she can with Winston (even she only knew of a few, not to mention very little about the contents. Vishkar must've been secretive about them), nearly keels over at the sight.

"It is alright! But a scratch." Zarya laughs, looking over at Symmetra, who doesn't find it as funny. "We will guard the next one better for you, little engineer."

Whether you succeed at that or not, it sounds absolutely true when Zarya says it.

Despite the circumstances, you're glad to see Satya slowly becoming a part of the team.

Even if her doubts plague her.

You watch her fight with Lúcio and occasionally Zarya - the latter of the two tries her best to at least be civil at most times, not letting Satya see the grudge she still holds over the Siberia incident. It might be because she sees the amount of grief it causes her.

Noone feels proud of themselves seeing the engineer they worked hard to save curl up into a ball on the floor, lost in her own mind, be it due to grief over past mistakes or the questioning of morals after seeing the amount of war equipment Vishkar apparently secretly kept.

"Leave me be," she tells you as you sit down beside her. She inches away from you.

You sit there quietly with your eyes closed for a long while, not wanting to leave her on her own.

She isn't alone from now on, after all.

Your eyes snap open when Lúcio's voice suddenly breaks the silence.

"Get up." he says, extending an arm towards Symmetra. "Come on, it's time to go now."

"I have nowhere to go," she replies, voice muffled and weak.

"Sure you do. Winstons's asking for you." Lúcio says, still holding the hand out. His face is devoid of its usual smile, but his voice doesn't sound angry, which is new for a conversation between these two. "Come on, I'll help you up."

"Why are you helping me?" she says, looking up at him. "Have I not done enough harm to you?"

"You have." Lúcio replies. "But that doesn't mean you don't get a second chance. We're a team now, whether we like it or not." He's still holding his hand out. "Let's go."

You watch her take his hand and go towards Winston's room. You smile. She'll be fine here.

"You should look into using detonator based bombs along with your sticky ones," she tells you one day, as she watches Winston fiddle with the accelerator. "it would be more efficient for missions like this."

You smile. She does care.

"I'd forget to detonate them, I think. But I'll try it out for you sometime, love."

"Oh, so you'll listen to her, but not me, mate?" Junkrat says. You didn't know he was in the room. Neither did Symmetra, judging from the look on her face. "I'm the bomb expert here! Show some respect for once."

You stick your tongue out at him. Satya very much does not.

Symmetra meeting the junkers was an adventure all in its own right. The sight of her repeating the phrase "They have a child" with a blank expression sums it up pretty aptly.

You can't help but laugh when Satya's expression from then crosses your mind. You've taken many bullets during the warehouse scuffles just because of this.

You've taken many bullets in general. This doesn't dishearten you one bit. There's no wound you can't outrun, really. And even if there were, there's nothing a bit of rest wont cure (you ignore Mercy's disappointed head shake when you tell her this).

You're getting said rest by chilling on the couch with 76 one day when you hear it.

It's been so long since you've heard 'Overwatch' surrounded by positive words on the TV that you nearly fall off the couch when it happens.

You listen to the reporter politely praise Overwatch's efforts in the Vishkar resource war for less than a minute before you launch into a full sprint to get Winston. You vaguely hear Jack laughing in the background.

Winston's smile when he hears the report makes every bit of effort - every meter run, every bullet taken - feel absolutely worth it.

He lets you drag him around vaguely to the beat once Lúcio brings music to celebrate.

You realise you may actually be able to go back to the old base soon. You can't wait to show home to everyone who's joined.

Even if you already feel at home.

\--------

The Vishkar warehouse battles are usually chaotic, but this one bypasses the shitshow stage, graduating straight to fecal tornado levels.

You'd gone in with determination, mostly due to the fact that Satya actually remembered this one.

"I think this warehouse had a communications room," she says. "It was used for commanding storage... There was a mapping device with the locations of the warehouses in it." she goes on, suddenly stopping. "I did not think it to be important back then, without knowing there were this many warehouses..."

"Let's go get it then." you say, breaking her out of whatever depressing train of thought she'd begun to go on.

And so you do.

Or, well, you try.

You try to look out for the control room while also mediating the conflict between the gang representatives that are here.

It all goes to hell when Talon shows up.

Talon's occasionally turned up to these warehouse battles before, to the chagrin of basically everyone involved. You're beginning to think they might be here more for the cause of messing with people than actually gathering resources.

The warehouse becomes a war zone as as gangs fight against you, against Talon, against other gangs and occasionally against themselves.

It becomes abundantly clear no amount of peacemaking or fighting can calm this down, no matter how much you kick and scream at the thought of having to retreat.

You manage to reluctantly get out of the building after beating down a good bunch of goons on your way out.

You let out a huff as you meet up with the rest of your team outside, everyone having retreated after 76's command.

"I'm never going back there again. Holy shit." D.Va says between wheezes, and you watch 76 freeze mid breath as he remembers something.

"The map device is still in there," he says.

Sounds of commotion echo from the building as everyone stays pointedly still for a while, dreading the consequences of someone else getting the device, or just dreading the situation in general.

You take a deep breath.

"I've got this," you say, disappearing back into the building before the others even get a chance to react.

You do an okay job of blending in as you sneak trough the halls, right until a bullet collides with your shoulder.

Then another one.

And another.

You hold yourself from yelling out in pain and recall yourself back, listening for the fall of the bullets, before you blink yourself forward again and run.

Your eyes are blurring by the time you reach the room Satya mentioned. Or at least you think it's the room. Your eyes really aren't doing much for you right now, and neither are the 5 new bullets you've collected on the way here.

What you do see clearly, however, is the device.

You grab it and sprint out of the room, avoiding thought of the way your legs ache with every movement, fresh wounds searing with pain every time you so much as think about moving faster. You ignore the occasional pools of blood and bodies that get in your way, trying to trip you up.

Try as you like, you cannot ignore the dark silhouette that materializes right in front of you.

"Reaper," you catch yourself whispering, followed by some choice words Ana would scold you for using. You sure hope you turned the comm off correctly.

You ignore the fact that your track record against Reaper isn't exactly stellar as you dodge his shots with all your might.

"You aren't getting this one, love!" you say, holding onto the map device with whatever strength you can muster.

You blink forward and keel over before taking another step, sharp pain in your back. Multiple sharp pains. To hell with his multiple round shots. Or to heaven. Whichever the edgelord would prefer less.

The device skids away, out of reach.

He got you again. This is personal now.

A deep laugh echoes trough the air. "You never learn." you hear him say as he walks towards you.

This is where he's wrong. You remembered this time.

He's petty.

Which is exactly why you slapped your only trigger-based bomb onto the map device as soon as Reaper came into view.

Sorry, Satya.

You hold back the urge to grin as you watch him dramatically pick the map device up with his spooky claws, turning to face you before he goes to crush it. You could not have planned this better.

You keep up a dismayed expression for Reaper, looking at him with all the faux-sadness you can muster, as you carefully hold onto the detonator in your pocket. You were expecting this.

You were not expecting Jack to suddenly barrel in, launching himself at Reaper right as you press the button.

A blast rings out. You think you hear screaming over the ringing.

There is smoke everywhere. Smoke and blood, you realise.

You notice what looks like a hand laying a good distance away from where you remember the blast being.

"Angela," you call out over the comm, hoping she can hear better than you can at this moment. "I need your help."

\--------

Jack wakes with a startle hours later.

"Woah, love! Calm down, you're alright!" you tell him turning to face the bed he's currently laying in.

"Wh... where am I?" he says, and you are once again reminded he can't actually see much without the visor.

"Mercy's infirmary. We brought you back to base." you explain, looking around for the visor.

It's a very small and shoddy infirmary, compared to what Angela would prefer, but it's an infirmary none the less. You watch him sit there and think while you look for the visor.

"...Where's Reaper?" Jack asks after a little while.

"Right here." grumbles a voice from the other infirmary bed.

You can't tell whether you've found the visor too late, too early, or just in time as you hear Jack scramble in his bed with a "What the fuck--".

"Calm down, for Pete's sake!" you tell him as you catch his hand, calming him down as much as you can as you sit down beside his bed. "We brought him here, too."

"I didn't agree to this." Reaper cuts in and you give him a little glare. Rude.

"He's in no better shape than you." You say, carefully guiding Jack's hand over to the visor.

Reaper scoffs. "At least I have both hands."

"What?!"

That motherfucker.

You watch Jack's hand forget the visor entirely, reaching for his other hand in a flash.

His currently nonexistent hand.

The most striking feature on the currently almost entirely bandaged body of Jack happens to be the lack of a good part of his left arm.

"Wha-" Jack begins, then stops, his good hand scrambling for the visor again, before stopping. He turns towards Reaper. "What did you do back there?!"

Reaper lets out a huff of air, his masked face (he refuses to unmask.) turning to look at you for a second before he turns back to answer 76. "I exploded, Jack. Don't act like you haven't seen me do it before."

Jack opens his mouth, then shuts it again. You help him put the visor on.

"Didn't see you as the cunning type though." Reaper says, looking at you again.

"Yeah, well. You underestimated me." you tell him before you turn to 76, squeezing his hand.

You try to keep your eyes from turning to the hurt arm. You fail.

"I'm sorry, love," you whisper. "This is all because of me. I didn't think you'd jump in...! I.... I shouldn't have..."

Jack stares at the arm with you.

This is not what you set out to achieve when you'd originally joined Overwatch. Or when you joined the recalled Overwatch. At no point was 'blowing up a friend's arm' part of the plan.

"If it makes you feel better, it was intended for me." Reaper says, tone not at all trying to make anyone feel better.

You don't think you would've felt that much better had it been him.

"You took the brunt of it." He goes on. That's a lie. Reaper was no better off - a pile of smoke before Mercy arrived. "Of course the one time you shield me from the blast would be an accident."

Gabriel Reyes is a bitter man, you realise. You open your mouth to tell him to shut up, but Jack speaks up first.

"Stop talking as if you weren't the cause of the blast back then, Gabriel!"

His voice is hoarse, but goes all the way up to a roar by the end of that sentence. Uh-oh.

"Was I the cause, Jack? If you'd paid attention to anything other than your own ass back then you would've damn well known I wasn't the problem in Overwatch." you don't hear the rest of whatever he says because now Jack is yelling again.

Uh-oh.

"Silence in the clinic!" Mercy's voice suddenly rings out, silencing both of them. "Really? You're up for 5 minutes and this is what you do?"

Bless Mercy. Great as you may be, you're not fit to handle two injured old men fighting.

"Hello, Angela." Reaper says, voice not at all polite. "I'd congratulate you on a revival well done if I wasn't already a walking abomination."

"I'm trying to heal you back, Gabriel, please..." she says. Reaper cuts in again.

"Nobody asked you to. Let me leave."

She does not. In fact she informs him that he'll be kept here until he's in good heath. "I don't let dying patients out of my clinic."

"It's a little late for that."

You can't read the emotion that flashes on her face fast enough. She changes the course of the conversation.

"I'll have someone guard you two at all times. There's no use in trying anything now."

"I'll wraith away."

"You can't. You're too weak. Focus on getting better, and then you'll see about leaving." she says, before ignoring Reaper and turning to Jack instead. "I'll work on something to replace the hand for the time being. Be careful with the wound, please."

And with that, she's off, leaving you to stare at Jack's arm in silence again.

"It's okay, Tracer," he says all of a sudden, his good hand taking one of yours. "you did well."

You lay your head onto his leg.

You let him lie to you, knowing you didn't do anything well at all.

\--------

You spend the following week completely mucking up your sleep schedule.

Technically, being a patient of the infirmary yourself, as the multiple bullet wounds would attest, you get to experience the joy of standing guard for two angry old men every day, choosing the night guard out of sheer convenience - you finish guarding the guys, then move on to normal 6 a.m. routine, taking a nap somewhere during the day to make sure you're up to your usual standard of awake and cheery.

The ones you're guarding are as expected - there's a lot of fighting involved.

After a particularly nasty incident where Jack toppled out the bed in an attempt to punch Gabriel in the face, guarding shifts were changed to include pairs of guards, introducing you to the company of McCree.

"Y'all need to stop explodin' together," he tells them once.

"Maybe third time's the charm," Reaper responds.

"Is that a challenge?" you joke and you're really glad Mercy's not here to hear this.

Fighting isn't the only type of conversation these two can hold, you discover one night when Reaper speaks up quieter than usual, assuming you're just as asleep as the cowboy snoring next to you.

"You left me to die back then," he says, looking nowhere in particular. "I watched you look right past me and leave. Thought you'd gone to die somewhere away from me."

"I couldn't see you," Jack says, voice just as quiet. "I couldn't see anything."

"I know now."

"Does that change anything?"

"No."

There's a long pause.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel."

"That doesn't change anything either."

There's nothing but silence after that.

You don't always check in during the day, but you've caught tidbits of the way things work. A visit from a teammate here, a checkup there.

Winston always has an odd look on his face after he leaves the clinic.

"Wait until you aren't falling apart at least, Gabriel." Mercy tells him when he asks to leave. "we'll let you go when you rehabilitate."

"Speak for yourself," Ana pipes up from her seat on the side of the room, where she's drinking her morning tea with you. "I am not letting anyone leave until everything is sorted out."

Reaper doesn't move around much, which really doesn't tell you a lot about his condition. Although you aren't sure how much you'd be able to tell - his whole smoke thing is really far from standard.

You watch him try his best to keep people from talking to him, saying whatever the other person needs to hear least if just to keep them away. You catch yourself pitying everyone involved, including Reaper.

"You didn't really cause the explosion back at Swiss," you say to him one night, as both McCree and Jack snooze away. "Why do you talk to people as though you did?"

"Because people only listen to what they expect to hear. All of you see only what you want to see, like always." He responds. "Don't think I don't remember you all feigning ignorance to what was happening with Blackwatch."

"I didn't know." you say, looking down at your feet, illuminated by the light from your chest. "I'm a tad dense, I'll admit."

"No. You didn't know because you didn't want to know. Even now, you idealise your precious Overwatch too much to look at it critically. A lot was wrong back then, and it wasn't all me. You're pretty good at feigning ignorance for someone subjectively dense."

You don't raise your head, a heavy sense of guilt keeping it down.

"I didn't want to know then. But I want to know now." You're not lying. You want to make sure you can prevent whatever caused the downfall back then. "Tell me, please. Tell me everything I don't want to hear."

A silence drags on. Then Reaper starts talking.

He talks of corruption among the ranks, of being forced to silence about every misdeed, of repercussions that followed every time he refused to keep his mouth shut. Of Talon's influence spreading even back then - double agents, spies, you name it. Of the battlefield horrors and war crimes Blackwatch were made to handle. Of seeing the main branch of Overwatch bask in glory while Blackwatch was forced to clean up after them, facing backlash rather than recognition. Of bodies of enemies, friends, civilians - anyone that stood in the path of the image the higher ups were seeking to protect. Of nights spent digging deeper into the corruption, hoping someone would listen. Of the perpetual blind eye every attempt at reason was met with.

You listen intently, carrying every word to heart.

You don't say anything when you notice Jack's eyes - wide awake - staring out into the abyss. That's all they really can look at, now.

The abyss stares back, they say.

"Can I see your face?" you hear 76 ask one night, when he thinks you've fallen asleep again.

"I was told you can't see anything."

"Gabriel."

"No. There's not much of it left to see."

You start paying more attention during the night after that, struggling to keep awake as McCree snoozes beside you. You all let him snooze away, especially after Reyes stops you in your tracks the one time you try waking the cowboy.

"He's better off sleeping than wandering aimlessly, the insomniac." he says. The fact that he still cares for the cowboy who had once been under his command comes across clearly, even if the relationship is strained to say the least.

And so, you stay awake for both McCree and yourself. Not only because you want to do your guard duties well, but also because you want to hear more civil-ish conversations.

You feel a little nosey. Just a tad.

And you also feel like the worst night guard, because you manage to fall asleep the one night where something actually happens.

You wake up to the sight of smoke spreading across the room, coming from a figure leaning over Jack's bed. You vaguely hear your name called.

You jump.

"What are you doing?" you ask, running up to the bed.

Jack does not look okay. Not at all. Even in this light he's much to pale, and he's mumbling incoherently, with an occasional strained movement. You get ready to fight Reaper off Jack, just in case.

Your hand is suddenly grabbed and placed over Jack's forehead.

It's hot. Much too hot.

"He's delirious." says Reaper, who you now notice to be leaning over Jack to hold onto his good hand. "Get the doc, I'll hold him down."

You open your mouth, then close it again, not sure.

"Do you want him to die?" he asks.

"Don't you?" you counter.

"Not like this." he says. "Not again." he quietly adds a second later.

You wait one more second before running to get Mercy. You vaguely hear Reaper mumbling right back at Jack as he keeps the guy from hurting himself once he starts thrashing around aimlessly.

Mercy's face goes from confused to focused medical professional in a matter of seconds after you barge into her and Pharah's shared room, yelling mostly incoherently in your panic. She follows you to the infirmary with a swift step.

"Get back into bed, Gabriel, you aren't supposed to be standing yet," she barks out as soon as she walks into the room. She brushes off whatever he says in protest with a "He'll be fine, I'm here now."

You move through the mess of black smoke to help Reyes back to his bed. You hold him up by the shoulder, moving him back. Your hand phases through his when you try to grab it.

You will back the memories of your life as an incorporeal time being. Not the time for this, Tracer.

"You could've made Jesse hold him down, why-- Why's Jesse asleep?" Angela speaks as she moves closer to Jack. She sighs, then turns to you and begins rattling off a list of supplies you are to bring her. "Oh, and wake the cowboy, would you? I'll need help back here, too."

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You might have fallen asleep at some point - you really can't tell. You notice the sun peeking out from over the horizon trough the meager window of the infirmary.

"He'll be fine." Angela smiles when you ask how Jack is. "Go wake everyone up, Lena. It's nearly seven now."

You nod, running off to cheer good spirits into everyone right in the morning, an hour late or not. You let Reaper sleep (you assume he's sleeping. His mask doesn't tell you much) and you don't rush into waking Jack for his usual morning status report.

Everything is fine at base that morning, after all.

\---------

You notice some older files among Winston's usual paper pile that day.

You take a moment to at least somewhat read trough various old Blackwatch reports neatly placed on the side of the table.

"Are you here to wake me up or to replace me?" you hear the ape ask, and only then do you realise he's been watching you read trough the documents with uncharacteristically rapt attention for a little while now.

"Sorry, love," you say, placing the plate of sandwiches you'd been holding that whole time onto the table. "I got a tad carried away there, whoops."

You take another glance at the paper pile as Winston gets up and still sleepily wobbles to the table, quietly thanking you for the sandwiches.

"Interesting reading material you've got here, love," you say, pausing for a second. "What are you trying to do?"

Winston closes his mouth and puts the sandwich back down.

"I'm trying to understand," he says.

A small silence drags on as you sit down next to him.

"I'm here to help, love." you say quietly. "I'm always here to help."

You spend a large part of the morning going trough various files with Winston, thoughtful discussion only interrupted once someone runs in with some minor problem or another.

"I'll talk to him." you hear Winston say at one point, sounding as if he's trying to assure himself just as much as you.

You smile. He'll do well, you're sure.

You go trough the day as usual, turning in for the night guard shift in the evening.

The infirmary is a lot quieter this time around. You chat to Jack for a while, glad to see him feeling alright.

The fighting that used to be the constant sound of this room has mostly given way to silence. You feel like you might have missed a conversation or two. You make a mental note to casually ask Ana (who had the day shift) about it later.

You take your usual seat beside McCree at around the time said cowboy begins to doze off.

You watch Jack hold onto Reyes' hand as he sleeps, having rolled onto his stomach to face his good hand towards Reaper. You remember the incorporeal feel that same hand had had a day before, wondering how much energy it takes for Reaper to keep himself in a tangible shape.

You wonder what your life would be like had you had the ability. The light from your chronal accelerator seems oddly bittersweet.

You look at the hands, hanging onto each other in the space between the infirmary beds. You feel masked eyes boring into you as if daring you to say something.

You stay quiet, smile, and pretend to go to sleep.

\--------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops once in a while.

You grin. Even with the rush surrounding the Vishkar resources, you find time to chase Widowmaker around. You've never been one to turn down a challenge.

Or a chat on the occasions when she feels up to sitting down and having a little rest.

You think about how ridiculous the notion of sitting down with her for a chat would have seemed a few years back sometimes, before you realise it might not have seemed all that strange after all.

You've made a lot of progress when it comes to your relationship with Widowmaker, you realise one day when she casually (as casual as she gets) asks you how Zenyatta is doing.

A whole lot of progress, you think one time when you accidentally call her Amélie and fully expect her to run off, only to see her silhouette still lounging beside you, not so much as an inch of disdain on her face.

You smile and try the name again, wondering whether she simply didn't hear you.

"Amélie?"

"What is it now?" she responds in her usual casually smug fashion. You smile.

"Has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are?" you respond. You'll admit, you panicked a little when she didn't immediately run away. You'd mentally kick yourself if the terribly cliche phrase hadn't ellicited a little laugh out of her.

"Noone who lived to tell the tale, chérie."

Despite it being something as simple as referring to her by name, you feel like you've really accomplished something.

And so you start using the name as much as you can.

"Amélie," you call out to her as you chase her from rooftop to rooftop, watching her elegantly flit back and forth in a now familiar rhythm.

"Amélie," you jokingly chide her when she asks about the latest Overwatch gossip.

"Amélie," you thank her when she shoots down a gang member who had been chasing you around. You smile when you watch her go from protecting you to dueling you within the span of a few seconds.

"Amélie," you giggle when she responds to some of your flirtier remarks with lines admittedly smoother than yours. You feel your legs wobble a bit and you're really glad you aren't running at those moments.

"Amélie," you hear Mei call her once and when she immediately runs away, you stand there confused for a little while until you remember that was supposed to be her usual reaction to the name.

Things go on as usual for a while - you see her silhouette, you grin, salute, wait for the greeting bullet.

Until one day it doesn't come.

You stand dumbstruck for a moment when she ignores you and moves away to another balcony.

You shrug, willing away your doubts for the time being - you've a battle to fight yourself. Perhaps she just isn't in the mood for your cheery antics.

Perhaps she never will be, you think when the same scenario plays out again, and again, and then once more after that.

You follow her that last time. She continues to ignore you, all of your greetings and little taunts, as she focuses on shooting at your teammates when they pass by.

"Amélie," you finally call out and feel yourself instinctively move left as her gun is suddenly facing you, a bullet already in the air. You feel a sense of hope as you're reminded that you've dodged shots like this a million times before.

And in turn, she's made shots like these enough to know exactly where you'll move, which you find out when pain sears trough your shoulder.

She meant for that.

"Leave." she says, her voice cold as she points her gun downwards again.

You really have no choice but to listen to her.

You feel heavy on your way back to base that day.

Angela watches over you with worried eyes, not at all centering her sights on the wound on your right arm.


	3. Chapter 3

It's six a.m.

The sun is blaring trough the flimsy curtains in your room. You've never loved the sight of cheap linen more.

It's a good day to change the world as ever.

You take a deep breath of the still mostly dusty air and you smile.

You're home.

You get trough your morning routine - just the same as before you left, stopping only to look at yourself in the mirror.

Still the same as ever - it's as if you'd never left.

"Good morning, Athena!" you say, looking up at nowhere in particular with a smile.

"Good morning, Tracer." she responds. You feel safe knowing she's watching over you again.

You get out of your room and take another deep, dusty breath (you and Genji have really got to look into the whole mop-racing thing again) before making a mad dash towards Pharah and Mercy's room.

"Why do you even have that old alarm anymore, love?" you ask as you watch Pharah get up to make coffee. "Even if I wasn't here, Athena would wake you, you know?"

"Insurance," Pharah shrugs.

"I think you just like the idea of being the first to get woken up at this point," Mercy says, sitting up in the bed. "can't say I agree with you on that." she says, falling back onto her pillow.

You snort as you watch Pharah set the coffee back onto the table, giving you a deadpan look.

"Come back to bed," Mercy says, voice muffled by the pillow she's currently flopped face down in.

"It's alright, Tracer, I'll take it from here." Pharah says.

"Sure, love. Take it wherever you wish. Cheers," you respond, taking yourself out of the room and onto the next one.

You move onto Soldier 76 and rattle out the usual base status report. He thanks you by giving you a status report of his own. "I'm fine, Tracer, seriously. Stop asking, I'm fine."

You start making your way towards Lúcio's room, when the sight of people in the kitchen catches your attention. You give a hearty "good morning" to Hanzo, who you expected to see here, and Symmetra, who you didn't expect at all.

You sit down at the table and chat with Satya as Hanzo works the coffee maker in the background.

You then watch Hanzo carefully put down a cup of coffee for Satya, deliberately arranging everything down to the placement of the teaspoon as he goes, until it looks like a picture from a hotel breakfast menu.

You are incredibly confused until you see Satya's eyes light up, at which point you start taking mental notes.

You leave them to it, only stopping to ask Hanzo whether McCree's still asleep ("Take a guess.") before moving onto Lúcio's room.

You don't so much as race Lúcio today, but rather leisurely run beside him as you move down the list of people to wake.

You wake Mei, who's very excited about being back at base. You enthuse with her for a little while.

Lúcio helps you stick post it notes on McCree's door (creating a 'good cop, bad cop' situation with one note reading "Keep rockin and rollin today, man!" and the other opting for a simple, yet classic "You stink, cowman") and he helps you yell McCree awake.

The two of you continue yelling as you go on to waking Torbjörn, who's becoming more difficult to wake by the day. He's also becoming better at throwing things, managing to hit you in the shoulder with a spoon today.

You wake the other two Vishkar kids and smile as you watch them get used to the base by the day.

You listen to Reinhardt enthuse about having enough space again, smile at Zarya's first impressions of the base. You listen to Zenyatta laugh softly as you remind Genji of the mop race and gain a new challenger in the form of Lúcio and an additional challenge from D.Va, who declares she'll devastate all of you with her mopping skills.

Oh, it's on.

But before that, you move on to waking the junkers, who've already managed to make a mess of the room. Chizuru smiles when you ask her about the base. "It's big. Like Hog." she says.

Bastion thrives as soon as they get back to base. They beep happily as they work to restore the previous extremely green state of the little balcony they've chosen as their home.

"Aw, sweet, you still have the watering can I gave you!" Lúcio says and smiles wide as Bastion beeps back positively. "Should get you a new one by now, you're due for an upgrade, buddy!"

You let Lúcio sneak a sandwich from the plate you bring to Winston's room.

"I can't believe you, love, already?" you ask the ape as you wake him up from his spot on the table. "We only got back to base yesterday and you're already sleeping on the table?"

He looks up at you and your smile nearly falters when you see how red his eyes are.

"I can't help worrying," he says. "I got word that the Shimada clan took in a lot more Vishkar tech than we'd thought."

You drop the smile for a moment, looking trough the details on the screen. You get lost in the numbers within a minute, but at least Lúcio seems to be paying attention.

"Did they get one of those map things maybe? Looks like they got a lot of these without fighting for them."

"It might have been that..." Winston shrugs.

"Whatever it is, love, worry about it after breakfast, alright?" you ask him, making a mental note to convince him to go to sleep earlier today. "I'll come visit you later, promise."

And with that you move onto the last place for the morning routine.

It's been a while since you've had tea at Ana's.

You feel utterly, completely at home as you take the first sip from your cup.

\--------

Noone was surprised when Reaper left the group as soon as he decreed himself healthy enough.

Some, however, were surprised to see him occasionally join the group for a mission or two. You were surprised at how much less edgy he seems when he's actually on your team.

You were slightly disappointed about not getting the chance to expand your collection of Reaper quotes, until you heard him very casually throw out the phrase "Time to reap" mid mission and you had to stop running to catch your breath from all the giggles.

Even more of you were surprised to see him make casual appearances at the base.

Say what you will about the battle experience, walking into the living room to see Edgelord McDarkness chilling on the couch will never get old.

"Cheers! What are we watching?" you say as you plop down onto the arm of the couch, grinning at the usual sight of Jack and the unusual sight of Reaper in front of the TV.

Your grin falters for a second when you look over to the TV and recognize it to be basketball. You strap yourself in for Jack's usual in-depth explanation of the rules (which you happen to already know, than you very much! Well, mostly).

Having a centered base again, you're really glad you get to chill at the TV with Jack in the evenings more often again. You're also really glad to see Reaper join once in a while now - you didn't think two old guys explaining sports in far too much detail would be more amusing than one, but it is.

"Can't we just watch a movie?" you whine once in a while, perfectly anticipating the variations of 'no, wait, this is cool, okay?' and 'my remote - my rules' that you get as a response most days.

The one time you get a positive response turns into an all out movie night very quickly, more agents appearing on the couch every time you so much as blink. You have less and less space for yourself by the second, but the appearance of blankets and popcorn is a plus ("Who let Junkrat make the popcorn?!" you vaguely hear yelled out in the hall).

"I didn't sign up for this," you hear Reaper grumble from his seat beside you.

"Stop hogging the blanket, edgelord!" you say to him. "It won't do much to warm up your cold, dead heart anyway, will it?"

He responds with a mostly sarcastic "Ha ha." and you somehow feel a little proud of yourself.

The grin stays on your face as you turn your eyes to the screen.

\--------

"You know I don't like your spider girl, right?" Ana says, casually sipping from her teacup.

You're mid-morning tea at Ana's, trying not to mope after last night's shitshow of a mission. No matter how good you are at being cheerful even on the worst of mornings, you're reminded how easily Ana can see right through you. She goes on speaking before you manage to form a coherent reply.

"Really, I'm not sure I understand why you insist on chasing her after all these years, Lena. Why couldn't you go for a nice girl - like Zarya. Or Satya, even." She pauses to put down the teacup, her expression much more somber than you'd like. "I hate seeing you torn like this, child."

You don't miss the way her hand instinctively reaches for her eye patch as she speaks of Widowmaker.

You take a moment to remember the mission. Most of the actual mission is unfortunately overwritten in your mind by the sight of Widowmaker ignoring you again. You've had less and less success in getting her attention, even for a moment. Your legs feel heavy every time you have no choice but to turn around and leave, unwanted once more.

You silence the thoughts in your head and focus on giving Ana a bright smile. It turns out a lot sadder than you'd expected.

"You've nothing to worry about, love," you say, trying to will away the inexplicable prickling in the corners of your eyes. "She was never truly my spider girl, after all."

Despite the years of sparring, chatting and generally being a presence in your life, the fact that Widowmaker was never yours to keep was apparent. Even so, it hurts seeing her rip away from your grip like this with no explanation. Even if your 'grip' had been nothing more than a feeble hold.

You momentarily wish you'd been the 'spider girl' in this situation. Spiderwebs seem a much more reliable grip than anything your capable of.

You'd cocoon her. You'd cocoon her and never let her go.

Ana lets you lean into her, warm arms encircling you. Her warmth seeps into you with every meaningless pattern she rubs into your arm.

"Let her go." she whispers.

Even after the tears on your face have dried, and the tea has gone cold, Ana's arms stay warm around you.

You let that warmth fuel you long after you've left Ana's room. You cling onto it as you go trough missions. And you cling onto it as Widowmaker desperately tries to keep you away, her shots growing more accurate and ruthless by the day.

Angela eventually starts seeing less bullet wounds on you as you learn to give up quicker. She looks as though she doesn't know whether to smile or not. Neither do you.

You keep the smile up anyway. You have to be Tracer, after all. Fast, determined, smiling Tracer. As your determination falters, the other two factors have to compensate. And so you run faster, smile brighter.

You can't help the smile from faltering and the speed from coming to a dead halt when you hear a reason for all of this.

"Talon's had her on major lock-down since they caught her talking with you instead of, well, killing you a while ago." Reaper tells you one day. "She doesn't get much freedom now. They probably cranked up the brainwashing."

Whatever warmth you were clinging onto doesn't suffice after that.

You understand she isn't yours, no matter what you wish.

But even if she isn't yours, you'd much rather she was her own - not Talon's. Never Talon's.

You feel a surge of the determination coming back. You let it lead you next time you see her on a rooftop.

You look straight at her and salute. You drop the grin this time.

You keep your eyes on her as she tries to run from your sights, then as she tries to shoot you down. As you dart trough the bullets.

"Amélie," you call out. You aren't surprised when you're ignored and her silhouette disappears behind a rooftop for a second before you find her again.

"Amélie!" you shout again. "Amélie, you can't let them do this to you!"

You ignore the sear of the fresh bullet-wound on your shoulder and shut down the reflex to recall yourself back, not wanting to lose sight of her for even a second.

"You can't let Talon make you into their puppet!" You continue chasing her as she abandons rooftops entirely, running out into the streets. "This is not who you are, Amélie!"

"Arrêtez!" Widowmaker suddenly yells out, launching into a full on tirade in French before stopping herself.

It's too fast for you to catch anything, but the crackle in her voice alone stops you dead in your tracks. She turns around to face you.

The expression on her face shocks you to a point where you don't even notice the bullet heading right for you even after it collides with your arm again. Widowmaker's shaky grip on the gun is affecting her aim more than you've ever seen.

"What do you know about who I am?!" she yells, suddenly jumping straight for you before you can even react. "You insist on molding me back into who I was, just like the rest of you! You speak as though all of you didn't try to make me into your puppet - 'Be understanding, Amélie!'," She yells hysterically, tears streaming down her face." 'Cover this up, Amélie!, 'Be kind, Amélie!', Our sweet, complaisant, quiet Amélie!"

You notice both the pain in your arm and the fact that she's pinned you onto the ground far too late to do anything about it. You don't manage to get a word in edgeways as she keeps yelling. You feel your heart shatter to pieces with every word.

"And you! You go on and on about me not knowing who I am and what I stand for, as if you know better! I'll tell you what I know right now! I know you can tell no more of me than anyone! I know I can end your measly little life in one second!" She brings her gun up to your neck. "And I know I will never be Amélie again!"

A gunshot rings out.

Darkness surrounds you as you close your eyes.

You open them a second later, when you realise Widowmaker's slumped onto you, warmth spreading from her spot on top of you. Not the good kind of warmth - too wet. Too slippery.

Too red.

The end of Ana's rifle faces you when you look up.

"That..." you start, voice quivering as you look up at her. "That was a sleep dart, right?"

"Right?! Ana?" you demand as her silence and the very telling, very unpleasant, very red warmth from Widowmaker answers the question for her.

"I didn't have anymore darts..." she finally says, voice strained, but you've already brought yourself to your feet.

"We have to-" you start, your voice refusing to cooperate with you. Your throat is hoarse. "We have to help her!" Your vision blurs as you scramble to pick Widowmaker up into your arms. "We have to save her!"

"Lena, wait!" you hear Ana yell, but you're already off.

You run.

You run as your legs ache, and as your arms struggle to keep upright, the weight of multiple bullets dragging it down.

You run home.

Angela looks at you, soaked in tears and blood - both your own and not, and she does not smile.

\--------

It's one a.m.

It's quarter to five.

It's 6:59 p.m.

It's really none of those times. But with the way your mind is racing, it might as well be.

It's four a.m.

It's half past six.

It's midnight.

It isn't any of those times either.

Your eyes open, then close, then open again - it doesn't tell you much. You can't see clearly. You close them again.

You don't know what time it is.

Mercy's voice wakes you.

"Lena?"

You open your eyes. You're in the infirmary. The small infirmary room, to be exact - there's a whole medical wing in the base. There's a clock on the wall. The doctor's looking at you with a worried look on her face. There's a familliar silouhette on the bed behind her.

You jump.

"Shh, it's alright, Lena. Careful." The doctor's voice stays quiet and soft as she sits you back down. You open your mouth to speak, but she shushes you again, knowing what you'll ask. "She'll be fine. Let her sleep."

You obediently sit back down after that.

"But really, carrying her all the way here, Lena? You had three bullets in your right arm alone." Mercy speaks again.

"I had to," you meek out.

Angela gives you a small nod. "I know." she says. "But please, get some help next time."

"She needed help," you respond, voice small and weak.

Not Overwatch's help, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

Mercy holds onto your shoulder as she eases you back down onto the bed. "Do you need anything?"

You close your eyes.

Time feels as though it's wobbling again. You focus on the real, corporeal feel of Mercy's hand on your shoulder.

You can't bring yourself to open your eyes again. You can feel the clock on the wall staring into your soul, as if daring you to check the time again.

"Zenyatta," you whisper to Angela. "I need Zenyatta."

You keep your eyes firmly closed as you listen to Mercy's voice asking Athena to call over the monk.

You keep them closed as you hear Zenyatta arrive and as he slowly sits beside you.

The whirr of Zenyatta's motors fills the air. You feel yourself enveloped in warmth. A metal hand comes to rest at your shoulder. You focus your thoughts on it.

"Why are your eyes closed, Tracer?" the omnic calmly asks in between tossing out meaningless little calming phrases.

"I can't open them. Everything will be different. I don't want everything to disappear," you eventually meek out.

Zenyatta responds with a thoughtful 'hmm', his voice calm. His hand doesn't leave your shoulder. You feel warm.

You keep your eyes closed.

You hear movement in the other infirmary bed and your eyes snap open in an instant.

You look over and see Widowmaker, still very much asleep, having shifted only slightly. She's much paler than you'd like. There's no red surrounding her.

The clock glares at you in your peripherals and you instinctively go to close your eyes, until Zenyatta's voice stops you.

"Not yet." he says. "I need you to do something for me, Tracer."

You carefully point your still open eyes towards him.

"What is it?"

"I need you to blink yourself into the future for me, just for a second." He says, and his grip remains on your shoulder as you instinctively seize up in fear. "It will be alright. Trust me."

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, as if you're going to dive into a pool, not attempt time travel. Time drowns you more than water does, it seems.

You blink yourself into the future.

Zenyatta's arm rests firmly on your shoulder. The tick tock of the clock barely skips a beat.

"Well?" he asks. You pry open an eye, then another.

You're in the infirmary. There's a clock on the wall and a worried doctor on the right of the room. There's a familiar silhouette sleeping in the other infirmary bed.

"...Nothing's changed," you say, confused.

"Yes." he responds, then sits in silence for a little while. "Now, I need you to do one more thing for me, Tracer."

The tick tock of the clock is loud and clear as it echoes trough the room.

"What is it?"

"I need you to recall yourself back in time for me." he says, and you seize up again. "Trust me. Everything will be alright."

You close your eyes again, take another deep breath.

You recall yourself back.

The clock keeps ticking. The whirr of the monk's motors isn't any more silent.

"And...?" he asks. You open your eyes again.

You're in the infirmary. There's a clock on the wall and a worried doctor on the right of the room. There's a familiar silhouette sleeping in the other infirmary bed.

"...Nothing's changed." you say.

You close your eyes.

You open them again.

Nothing's changed.

You smile and let out the deep breath you'd taken in preparation of being thrown across time.

"Thank you." you tell Zenyatta, whose hand is still there, on your shoulder.

Everything stays the same.

You take some more time to sit and take in your consistent, unchanging surroundings before you start to feel like yourself again. Zenyatta listens to you go on and on about nothing in particular, his presence calming you down by the second.

Eventually Genji turns up, nods respectfully when Angela shushes him upon entry and sits down beside you. And with him, the visitor gates seem to fly open.

Mei comes next, having apparently just returned from the mission you were supposed to be on. She occasionally steals nervous glances at the other infirmary bed and informs you that you'd left the comm on.

Lúcio comes in a little while later. He chats with you amicably, offers some tunes and promptly gets shut down by Mercy pointing at the other bed in the room.

"I should have put her in another room." she mumbles under her breath. She then looks over at you and shrugs. "Although, maybe not."

Lúcio stays around for a while, offering to help Angela out as much as he can. The doctor smiles and tells him to be quiet about it then.

McCree tries to come in and instantly gets pushed out the door by Mercy.

"Loud." she explains.

She comes back into the room a little while later and hands you a post-it note.

"Get well soon - the doc ain't letting me in otherwise.

p.s: I'll wake Torb for you while you're out" it reads, in familiar messy scrawl.

You smile. You feel yourself getting better by the second, but you contemplate staying longer just to have McCree experience Torbjörn's miscelanious item throwing for a couple more mornings.

Ana comes in soon after. A lot of emotions go trough you.

"I'm sorry," she says, voice quiet. You watch her hand instinctively move to her eye patch as she glances at Widowmaker. "...I could not let myself repeat the same mistake again."

A silence hangs in the room for while.

"It's alright." you finally say, looking over to Widowmaker's silhouette - still sleeping soundly, face slowly regaining colour (as non-standard as the colour may be). "You did what you had to, love. Everything's alright."

You hold onto Ana for a long time when she moves to embrace you.

Everything's alright.

Mercy keeps the visitor influx to one person at a time as the sun's measly final rays of the day disappear from the room without a trace. You can't help but glance at the sleeping silouhette once in a while.

A lot of thoughts fill your head.

You let them carry you away to sleep, your eyes slowly drifting closed.

Everything's alright.

A loud noise wakes you with a startle. Your eyes snap open. You look over to your right only to see a fallen bedside table and a startled Widowmaker. She says something in French and jumps out of the bed, keeping her distance from you.

"Wait!" you yell when she moves to open the window. You catch her by the wrist. "Please, we just want to help you."

"I do not want your help." she barks back, pulling her arm out of her grip and pushing you back in one fell swoop.

"Wait!" you yell out again as she leaps out the window. You scramble to your feet and run to look out the window.

A hand on your shoulder stops you from jumping out after her.

"Let her go," Ana whispers.

You fall to the floor.

Even long after your tears have dried, Ana's arms stay warm around you.

\--------

You work hard not to dwell on things.

You really can't afford to dwell on anything, considering how long you'll probably be around. It's too long a time to waste on what's already passed.

And so you put a smile on your face and run forward. Nothing can catch up to you, past be damned.

You don't dwell on failed missions, or on injuries you've sustained. You don't dwell on catastrophes you've seen. You don't dwell on Amélie's cold words.

Nothing can keep your smile down for long.

Except for the one failure that consistently plagues your mind every year.

Tomorrow will be six years since the explosion at the Mondatta memorial, as the calendar tells you. You stare at it for a little while, deep in thought.

Over the past few years, a lot has changed when it comes to the omnic situation, and, at the same time, not much at all. With every step the omnic community takes towards acceptance, the attacks carried out by the violent members of it pushes everyone away from progress.

Which is not to say progress hasn't been made - some omnic-right movement groups have brought up the god program theory concerning the attacks and their work towards solving the god program threat has made an impact. Not enough of an impact to change society, but an impact none the less.

You hear it come up in conversations with Genji and Zenyatta. You really can't tell whether you wish the monk's face could convey emotion or not.

You feel glad when you remember that both of them are safe and welcome here in Overwatch, which is a distinctly pro-omnic organisation at Winston's undying insistence. You're glad to know Bastion's safe, not feeling like an outcast in a peace-securing organisation despite being originally built as a war machine. You're happy to ensure the safety of Athena, who doesn't really know whether to count herself as an omnic, not having originated from an omnium.

But even within the base, you can't seem to escape the stigma.

You're mindlessly watching Chizuru wiggle her legs as she doodles, sitting on the couch beside Roadhog. He takes a glance away from his book and puts it down in a moment's notice, picking up Chizuru's drawing instead.

A picture of what is clearly a happy omnic and a few equally cartoonishly happy humans on some sort of hill stays in his hands for a few moments before he goes to throw it away.

"No." he says, and Chizuru listens.

You find a moment to talk to the girl alone later on. "Listen, love, I know you love Hog a whole lot - so do I, really - but I want you to know he did a bad thing today. He shouldn't have taken your drawing like that." you watch the girl nod thoughtfully before you go on. "Your parents have... a lot of bad memories when it comes to omnics. Roadhog especially. That's why he can get a little upset sometimes."

"Why does he have bad memories of omnics?" she asks. You feel like you shouldn't be the one to explain this to her.

"He lost his home because of some bad omnics." you explain after a long pause. "He thinks all omnics are bad now."

"Zenyatta's good." Chizuru says, shaking her head.

"Yes." you say. "Bastion's good too. Most omnics are - that's why we're fighting for them. Don't let Hog's sour mood stop you from drawing omnics, okay?"

"Okay." she nods, and the to of you start walking down the hall towards the kitchen. "At first I thought he threw it away because I can't draw very good." she says after a moment and you can't help but snicker. You open her mouth to tell her she's great at drawing, but someone else interrupts you.

"You can't do what now, Cheese?" Junkrat says as he suddenly appears in the hall in front of you. Chizuru shakes her head, a wide smile now on her face.

"No, I thought I could not draw because Hog threw my picture away, but--" she manages to explain as he picks her up without a second thought.

"Hog did what?! Hang on, Cheese, I'm gonna show that old bastard what really belongs in the trash! I swear..." he goes on as he carries Chizuru away with him.

You stand there for a while, wondering whether you should intervene, before deciding that you'd rather not risk a stray bomb in your face.

Although there are moments at base that remind you of the negative outlook omnics receive, you are also reminded of progress every time it becomes clear that Junkrat genuinely likes Zenyatta, no matter how much he denies it if asked.

You can't help all of this flooding your mind every year before the memorial and you can't help but check up on the event itself. You weren't able to go for the first few years after the explosion, but you've been unable to resist sneaking out to attend in the past two years, heavily disguised to make sure noone knows you're there.

This year is no different, you think as you begin the arduous process of covering up the chronal accelerator. You manage to get to disguising your face when a sudden beep breaks the silence that usually fills the base at this time of night.

You look up only to see Bastion carefully approach you, beeping softly, as if not to alert anyone else. They continue beeping as they approach the map beside the calendar and point right at King's Row, then at you.

You might not have been as stealthy as you'd like in the past years, apparently.

You begin asking Bastion to please not tell on you please in a hushed voice, but stop abruptly when they very carefully point at themselves and then King's row, the tone of the beeping questioning rather than accusing.

"Wait. Are you asking to come with me, love?" you ask, honestly taken off guard. You didn't think Bastion was at all interested in politics.

They nod almost shyly, beeps getting quieter in volume.

This is a really bad idea, you think as you tell Bastion they can absolutely come along. 76 would have your head if he found out.

Which is why he won't.

You ask Athena to inform Winston you and Bastion went out to visit some friends and pray he buys it. You're incredibly thankful that Athena has your back in moments like these.

"Be careful out there, please." she asks.

"We will, love. Thanks a lot," you tell her as you finish sufficiently disguising your face using various scarves and a hat you had laying around. You've amassed quite a collection during Overwatch's years in hiding.

"This'll have to do." you as you wrap the largest, nearly blanket-sized scarf around Bastion's shoulders as an impromptu hood to hide the very obvious gun on their back. You smile as you watch their little bird slip under the hood to rest at Bastion's head. "Looking good, love!"

And with that, you're off.

You excitedly explain the achievements of this year's speakers (one of the aforementioned anti-god program groups' leaders) to Bastion as you are flown to the destination.

A smile crosses your face as you see the size of the crowd at this year's gathering, and you stop yourself from instinctively dashing trough the crowd as you look back at Bastion. The omnic doesn't look as excited to be among a crowd this big. You give them a reassuring smile, taking them by the hand.

"It's alright, love. I'm right here."

You find a spot for yourselves and you close your eyes for a little while, taking in the buzz of the crowd as it roars with the arrival of the first speaker.

You vaguely note the amount of security workers on the scene is slightly smaller than last year, but still dramatically larger than it had been the first time you remember a crowd gathering here. You let yourself reminisce for a little moment, your eyes wandering over to the rooftops where you remember a graceful silhouette standing years ago.

You don't expect to actually see someone up there.

Your brow furrows. It's not Widowmaker - they aren't hiding well enough and the security people seem to be paying them no mind. You almost decide to shrug it off before the silhouette pulls out a rifle and begins aiming it at the podium.

Oh no.

You can't stop yourself from springing up onto the stage, knocking the speaker onto their side as a shot rings through the air.

You feel a sharp pain in your shoulder. You ignore it and get up, only to be faced with one of the security people. You open your mouth to tell them to get the speakers to safety and are interrupted by an elbow that makes swift contact with your face.

You hear panic set in within the crowd as the security guard holds a gun to the speaker's head and begins shouting out what you assume to be demands. The "guards" on the rooftops point their weapons down at the crowd.

And you were hoping not to cause a scene today.

You watch the confusion on the leading "guard's" face when you suddenly recall yourself back into an upright position and kick him off his balance. You do our best to fight off the other attackers on the podium, when familiar beeping fills your ears.

You turn to Bastion, who seems to have managed to get on the podium near you, even in their incredibly panicked state. You muster up all of your strength and give them a bright smile.

"We can do this, love." you tell them before looking around the area. Your sights land on the attackers on the rooftop. "You stay put here, I'll get the guys up there, alright?"

You watch Bastion twitch and panic for a moment before they nod. You turn around and get a whole one step from the podium before a metal hand on the back of your coat stops you. You barely manage to open your mouth to assure them before you're suddenly in the air.

You did not know Bastion could throw you this high. You blink with your eyes, then with the accelerator once you've realised what just happened. "Cheers!" you shout down at Bastion, who's fighting off more attackers coming from the crowd.

Not wanting to leave the omnic alone down there for long, you go trough the rooftop attackers at a record pace before coming back down and helping your friend out again.

You're panting and thinking how you're pretty sure Mercy will kill you when she sees the wounds on your body as the last guy goes down. You hear murmuring in the crowd and only then do you notice the amount of scarves and other disguise items you've shed around the street.

If Mercy doesn't, 76 will surely kill you when you get home.

The murmur of the crowd quiets down as you walk forward, and only after taking the step do you realise you look as though you're about to make a speech. You feel as panicked as Bastion still is for a moment as you listen to variations of "That's Tracer" and "The war machine is scaring me" echo trough the crowd.

You look over at Bastion, who still seems just as panicked as they'd been when you were under attack a second ago. You give them a reassuring smile, taking them by the hand.

You raise your entwined hands as far up as you can, facing the crowd with a determined smile.

"Don't worry, loves, the cavalry's here." you say before you start asking how many are hurt.

Or well, you try to ask. You have to wait for the cheering of the crowd to die down. Somehow, this is not a huge problem.

You turn to face Bastion, the grin on your face wide and obvious. "It's alright, love. I'm here." you say.

The smile stays on your face as you help the hurt get help. It stays even though you're a little disappointed when the speakers decide to call off their speeches for the day.

The smile stays as you leave for home.

"Jack's gonna have our asses." you laugh.

You really see no reason not to smile as Bastion's laugh echoes around you.

\--------

Winston tries his best to keep up a stern face as he factually grounds you and Bastion for a while. You, in turn, work hard to keep up a pout, conveying your very best rendition of guilt and regret.

Soldier 76 nods approvingly from his spot beside the three of you. You watch him leave the room before you drop the pout, sticking your tongue out at the ape.

"I don't regret a thing," you tell him.

"I know you don't." he smiles. "Athena wouldn't have let you out had you tried to do something you'd regret."

"I always have your best interests at heart, Tracer. That is why I am Winston's pride and joy." Athena's voice rings out.

Winston makes unintelligible noises of embarrassment as you and Bastion giggle.

"I thought I was your pride and joy, love." you say in between giggles.

"You are, Tracer." Winston says, his smile just as genuine as yours, right up until his face suddenly becomes stern. "But you're also not going on any missions for a while. And that's final. Same goes for you, Bastion."

"But Wiiiinston!" you whine, more for comic effect than anything. Despite the turmoil base was in when you came back, you know Winston's proud of you and Bastion, who takes their punishment gracefully, spending their time at base mostly cooped up in their little balcony.

You use the time at base to get further acquainted with the routines of the other agents at base.

You memorise the exact time, duration and program of Zarya's morning workout. You attempt to join her the first few times before discovering that you really cannot keep up with her in this regard. You settle for bringing her a perfectly timed glass of water instead.

You notice Mei occasionally visit Zarya during her morning workout hours.

"Zarya said she'd help me get some strength training done." she explains when you ask her about it. "I need to work harder to keep in shape - there's only so much cryogenics can do for you."

But there's a lot Zarya can do for her, you're sure. You give Mei a little eyebrow wiggle before dashing off elsewhere.

You enjoy the rare occasions when Hanzo joins you and Ana for morning tea. You love the even rarer occasions when Reaper joins. And you have an absolute blast the one time they both happen to join at the same time.

You're trying to hold down your laughter as you watch them awkwardly glare at each other on occasion, not sure what to think of the other's presence. Once in a while they question the other without turning to face them, voices equally covered in a thin veil of politeness.

"Is regularly throwing away perfectly usable guns not considered wasteful where you are from?"

"Is keeping one tit out a family tradition or do you just want to show off the tattoo?"

"Do you not think it rude to keep a mask on while being served tea?"

"Is fratricide a family tradition?"

"Has McCree ever done anything to warrant the way you are treating him now or did you just happen to step out of the grave on the wrong foot?"

A silence follows that last one. Reaper's masked face slowly turns to look at Hanzo.

"What's up with you and the cowboy, anyway?" he asks, and you have to hold your breath to not giggle at Hanzo's expression.

"Uh." is all he manages to get out before morning tea time devolves into you and Ana trying to hold back your laughter as Hanzo receives the edgelord version of the 'you better not hurt my son' interrogation.

You don't think Hanzo's going to join you for morning tea time anymore.

You get used to the sight of Lúcio helping out at Mercy's medical wing.

"I just thought I should get some actual medical knowledge in me, y'know?" he explains when you ask him about it. "The audio medic title ain't going anywhere - I just feel like I gotta have something to support it. I wanna help out as best I can."

You can't help the smile that puts on your face. Lúcio is truly too good for this world.

The other most often-seen visitor of Mercy's medical wing is Soldier: 76, who turns up for regular check-ups regarding his new prosthetic arm. You like to sit by and watch him fumble about, trying to master the art of picking things up and putting them down again.

"I'm a super soldier. You'd think the stuff they pumped into me would be enough to withstand a blast like that." he says one day, after watching a mug slip from his hands for the umpteenth time.

"Super soldiers get old too, Jack." Angela responds, picking the mug up and putting it back down on the table.

You stop listening and move on to another room.

You watch one of the Vishkar kids - Kyra - obediently follow Satya around the base long after she learns the ins and outs of it. She's the most vocal about her beliefs - you watch her get into arguments with Lúcio or Torbjörn once in a while, Symmetra watching from the sidelines, her face growing increasingly mortified.

"You don't know what you're on about, kid! Grow up and face the facts." Torbjörn tells the girl once.

"At least I can grow up and face them, you gnome!" Kyra yells back, followed by deafening silence.

The silence is broken by a comparatively loud giggle. The giggle then grows into a very loud guffaw as Reinhardt approaches the group.

"I do not agree with your side of the argument," he says, clamping a hand on Kyra's shoulder. "but that was a good one!"

Kyra looks startled. Symmetra even more so.

"Don't encourage her, you bonehead!" Torbjörn yells at the very much still guffawing Reinhardt.

"Nonsense, my friend! Encouragement is exactly what this girl needs!" he leans down, trying his best to get to her eye level. Close enough, you guess. "I believe in you, alright? Whether you are out fighting for your beliefs or schooling our short angry friend here, know that Reinhardt will be there to support you!"

Kyra looks taken aback by this.

You notice she starts occasionally following Reinhardt's steps just as fervently as she does Symmetra's after that.

When it comes to Symmetra herself, you don't really see her interact with people around base very much.

Until you walk into her room one day only to see her sitting at a table with Roadhog, cups of tea in hand.

"What are you guys doing?" you question as you slip into the room.

"Enjoying the silence." Roadhog explains as he puts his cup down onto the table. The cup looks comically small in his hands.

You sit with them for a bit, swinging your legs around below the table. They talk once in a while, with big pauses in between every small bit of genuinely interesting (if a tad muted for your liking) conversation.

You leave after a little bit, not sure you really get the whole silence thing. As you walk down the hall and hear sounds ranging from Kyra arguing with someone again to explosions, you think you understand a little bit more.

You spend a good bit of your time hanging around your favourite ape, helping him through whatever's going on at base at the time. You already knew Winston's lab to be a beacon of action here at base, so it's no surprise this is where your legs automatically lead you when you're not sure what to do.

You watch D.Va hang around the door, trying to find the words to ask Winston for permission to stream again. You don't think you've ever seen her nervous.

"It's really responsible of you to ask me beforehand, Hana." he says, surprised, when she finally asks him.

"No duh," she responds, the slightest hint of embarrassment on her face. "I'm always responsible."

She clings onto Winston's neck for a while after he grants her permission to stream and even promises to talk Jack down if he has a problem with it. Winston laughs as she rambles on excitedly about how happy her fans will be and how he should totally be a guest on her gaming stream one day and so on.

A fond smile rests on his face long after D.Va leaves the lab.

A lot of people visit Winston's lab on a regular basis, some with problems and requests of some sort, others - like you - just because they want to chat with Winston.

The most active of these visitors seem to share the common interest of science. You try your best to follow the conversation when Mei, Junkrat, or apparently Anakh the Vishkar kid come to the lab. Even when you're not sure what they're on about (which is more often than not), you like to sit by and watch the geek club do their thing.

You're glad to see Anakh hanging around the lab nearly more than you. They listen to Winston's explanations with rapt attention. You don't have to know what they're on about to see the sparkle in Anakh's eyes as they study blueprints and documents alongside the ape.

You walk into Bastion's little balcony one evening to find them crouched in the middle, fiddling with something on the ground.

"What are you up to, love?" you ask and watch them jump in shock, a sudden barrage of panicked beeps and boops reaching your ears. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. What have you got there?"

The beeping gets quieter as Bastion tries to shield whatever they were up to from your sights. "Oh come on, love! I won't tell anyone if you're embarassed about it."

They shake their head, then seemingly go trough an internal argument with themselves before slowly moving out of the way to reveal what they'd been working on. You look over to the pile of fabric scraps on the ground and your eyebrows shoot up when you realise you recognize the pattern.

It's the scarf you'd lent Bastion as a disguise a couple days ago. Or what's left of it, at least. Bastion automatically changing their configuration upon first sign of danger ripped the thing to shreds.

There's a larger piece of the scarf with several scraps sewn on and a needle with a bright blue thread connected to the large piece. They were trying to fix it, you realise.

Their beeps get quieter and more dejected with every second you spend looking over their work.

"Aw, love, you didn't have to go through all this trouble," you smile. "I'm not that broken up about the scarf - looked a lot better on you than me, believe me!"

They don't sound completely convinced, short erratic beeps punctuating their twitchy movements.

"Really, love, what matters to me is that you were there to support me that day." you say as you slowly move in to give them a hug. "Besides, did you see the amount of scarves I ripped up that day? Covered the whole street in scarf confetti, we sure did! Very festive."

They've gotten slightly better at hugs, you notice. You'll make a hug-master out of them one day, you swear.

"I oughta find a similar scarf for you next time i go shopping though," you say as you finally release the bot. "You really did look stellar in it!"

Their little beeps convey such clear and obvious embarrassment that you can't help but laugh.

You reprise the hug a few days later after Bastion carefully places the now-repaired scarf in your hands. You take a moment to look the scarf over. Its shape has changed considerably, along with its pattern - the previous plaid design can barely be seen in places where the pieces are bigger. It's held together by bright blue seams, clumsy in shape but surprisingly sturdy, encompassing even the smallest of scraps.

You love it to bits.

"And you rip on me for what I wear." Reaper scoffs when he sees the scarf.

"I'll have you know, this scarf was made with love," you grin at him. "which is a tad more stylish than the bitterness that holds your clothes together."

Bastion snickers in the background, a large, blanket-like scarf enveloping their shoulders.

\--------

You've had your fair share of interesting Reaper interactions over the past few months of him occasionally appearing at base, but you think the day he shows up to training is the pinnacle so far.

You watch him stand around near a wall for a while and you're beginning to think he's not gonna do anything besides brood, before he begrudgingly moves from his little corner and starts correcting people's posture, akin to what Jack (who's currently fiddling with the prosthetic arm on the other side of the room) usually does. You can't help but snort at the sight.

"Who the hell decided we need another dad?" Hana complains.

Noone is surprised to see you make a sprint for Reaper the second the word 'spar' is thrown out. You're pretty sure the others just let you have dibs on sparring new recruits (or new re-recruits, depending on how they're classified) by now. Being speedy has its perks, after all!

"You're going down, spooky." you grin at him. The ever-present mask doesn't tell you much, but you don't think he's grinning back. Reaper beckons you with a hand motion that vaguely conveys the sentiment of 'come at me' and you're off.

Being speedy really does have its perks, but it becomes clear he has you beat on strength by the third time he catches you by the leg after an attempted quick kick.

"You're hasty. Cut back on the speed. Put more weight into it." he tells you as you're knocked back once again. You're a little offended about the speed comment - did he just tell Tracer to cut back on the speed?

You aren't giving up though. You try again, holding yourself back a half a second, winding the kick up a bit more, if just to see what happens.

You feel your pride sink when your leg is caught again, even if he budges at the force this time. He does an odd little shrug and pushes you back. You assume that means 'better' in edgelord.

"Why aren't you using your time powers?" he asks. "I thought that was your main advantage, seeing as your speed clearly isn't."

"I was holding back to be fair on your slow gloomy soul, love. But if you're looking for a challenge, I can sure give you one!" you say, launching at him with a blink.

You are taken aback for a bit when he seemingly catches you with even less effort once your time powers come into play. You then realise this isn't exactly a new thing - Reaper's always had some sort of weird prediction power when it comes to your time manipulation. It takes a couple times of being caught right after a blink or a recall before your pride drops enough to ask him about it.

"You always move in the same pattern." he explains, voice surprisingly not as smug as you expected. He goes on after seeing the confusion on your face. "You do it unconsciously and it's not entirely obvious, but it's always the same." he guides you away from him again when you still look unconvinced. "Try me."

You do try. You run at him, getting a blink ready, your move planned out in your head.

"Left," he calls out, deadpan, right as you blink yourself to his left. He pushes you back instead of catching you, letting you try again.

"Right." he says as you're moving right. You do a loop around him.

"Right." he repeats, pushing you back again.

"Left. Right. Right. Left. Left." you're pushed back again, and again, and once more.

You even changed it up that last time.

"Don't expect it to work if you just do the opposite of what you want. Switch it up." he tells you and you're beginning to feel a little sick of this.

Which is why it feels so much more satisfying to actually get a good hit on him.

The spar becomes a little more evenly balanced from there, Reaper even resorting to his wraith form to dodge a hit or two, but the fact that he sees your moves coming stays obvious throughout.

You wouldn't have expected Mr Petty McBitterman to be someone who'd purposely let you get a hit or two on him, but here he is, doing just that. You come to the realisation that's because it's his way of showing you did good without actually using his spooky scary voice to, god forbid, say something positive.

He doesn't let you win, pinning you down once he's decided it's enough. You hear Lúcio call dibs on being next in the background. "Thanks," you say, and you aren't surprised to get no response.

He wordlessly throws a bottle of water at you as you sit down near a wall of the room and you can't help but laugh, Jack's monologues about proper hydration echoing in your mind.

"He really is another dad," you tell Lúcio, who sits down next to you after his request for a Reaper spar gets denied for now (though his dibs are not forgotten). "What a time to be alive."

You sip your water as you watch Reaper move towards Jack, who seems to be growing increasingly frustrated with the lack of precision in his prosthetic arm, his shots completely off target a good deal of the time.

This could end badly, you think as you sit up straighter, your night guard senses coming back as you ready yourself to bolt at any sign of conflict.

You settle back down as you watch Reaper carefully guide Jack's arms into the right place, standing entirely too close than one needs to be in order to correct posture. He doesn't need to have his arms wrapped around Jack like that. Or to be resting his head on Jack's shoulder like that.

But he is, and noone in the room is going to say anything about it.

It takes Jack a while to actually take a shot. It isn't a bullseye, but it's much closer to the mark than before.

That's alright, he can just try again. He's got help now, after all. And Reaper isn't getting out of helping people train after today, you don't think so.

Not until Lúcio gets his spar, at least.

\--------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops once in a while. Admittedly, much rarer than before, but you do stil notice her.

Ana's words echo in your mind as you wrestle down the reflex of saluting.

"Let her go."

You take a breath, put a smile on your face and dash along, as Tracer should.

Seeing her silhouette on rooftops becomes bittersweet as time goes on. On one hand, the fact that you can't automatically approach her like before is driving you slightly insane. But knowing that she's around, alive and well (she's fine, you assure yourself), gives you an odd sense of warmth, whether or not she happens to be gunning down your teammates at the time.

She's around far more than you spot her silhouette - the familiar whizz of bullets or even the very occasional voice that comes close enough to your teammates' communication devices tells you that. You don't even have to see the silhouette to feel a pang of the bittersweetness now.

You try not to focus on it - there's a fight to focus on, after all - but the occasional moment of distraction does come up.

This distracted state leads you to become a great target for the apparently observant gang member that manages to catch in a chokehold one day. You panic - how did you not notice the guy until now? You were running fast, sure, you always are, but this is a new low, even for you.

He's yelling something in your ear and you really ought to pay attention, but the disappointment in your own observational skills and the realisation that you don't have a blink at the ready distracts you once again.

The very close whizz of a familiar bullet quiets every thought in your head.

The yelling in your ear stops abruptly as the guy keels over. Your head whips around as you look in the direction the bullet came from.

Widowmaker's silhouette looks down at you from a rooftop, confused face mirroring your own. You stand there for a long moment, your mind feeling as blank as the fellow's laying behind you.

You open your mouth to say something (you aren't sure what) when she suddenly dashes away.

The concerned voices on your comm asking whether you're okay and what happened to the chokehold guy sort of assure you that was not some weird hallucination, but you aren't entirely convinced.

The memory of that moment haunts you every time you see her silhouette from then on, and even on days when you do not. Even on days when you're not battling Talon. On days when you're not battling anyone at all.

You're among the crowd in Lúcio's long awaited comeback to concerts, and even here, where the air is filled with excitement and happiness and not a hint of bittersweetness, the memories manage to creep up on you.

Something in the beat of the drum reminds you of the whizz of a bullet sent in greeting.

Something in the movement of a hand in the crowd looks just like a graceful silhouette readying to aim.

The overall happy aura of the concert doesn't escape you, however, taking the bitter sense out of the memories. You release a breath and feel lighter than before, cheerier with every beat that makes its way through you.

Leave it to Lúcio's music to heal your mind back to happiness, after all.

You let that happiness course trough you as you dance, every note bringing a sense of calmness into your soul. You let that happiness shine trough your eyes, your smile, your chronal accelerator. Your smile really will beat its light in sheer brightness one day, you swear.

The happiness doesn't leave you even as you spot a familliar silouhette in the corner of one of the balconies and you realise you never really got to thank her that last time.

You guess dancing will have to wait then.

You blink your way trough the crowd, unnoticed. You stay unnoticed even as you make your way up to the balcony, already closer to Widowmaker than you've been in a long while.

"Cheers, love," you greet her, voice barely loud enough to be audible over the general concert noise. "you here for the music?"

The rifle in her hands sort of answers the question for her, but you don't really think about that when her eyes suddenly meet yours again.

You've missed her, you realise.

"I'm here to crash another party of yours, I'm afraid." she replies, voice sharp and cold. You smile nonetheless - you got an actual reply out of her. She turns to face you as you take a step towards her.

"You know, you don't have to keep crashing parties like this - asking for an invitation will do just fine."

She scoffs. "My methods have not failed me yet."

You shrug. She's not exactly wrong. You change the subject before she gets a chance to go back to actively ignoring you.

"I wanted to thank you, love," you say. "you took out that one guy for me a while ago."

She looks around, avoiding eye contact for a little while. "No matter what I do, you just keep coming back to bother me."

"And yet you seem unkeen on letting me die off." you smile, keeping your eyes firmly locked onto hers. "It's mighty daring of you to keep a distraction like me around."

She opens her mouth, probably to retort, but stops in her tracks, mouthing the word 'distraction'. She suddenly turns around, eyes wide. You watch her scan the crowd with her scope, muttering what you assume to be choice words of the French variety.

Her shoulders sag as she turns back to you, obviously irritated.

You guess that proves your distraction point from earlier then. You attempt to say just that, only to be stopped by Widowmaker's hand suddenly covering your mouth.

Your eyebrows furrow but you stay quiet as she fiddles with some device at her ear before speaking.

"Mission failed. Target has left the building."

You can't help but grin into her hand. Both because you may be slightly starved for contact when it comes to Amélie and because you've really proven the distraction point from earlier.

You keep grinning as she turns off the device and your mouth is free once again. "You can't crash a Lúcio party, love. Don't take it to heart - it's just how it is."

"Perhaps I'll try another time then." she shrugs. You anticipate her attempt at a graceful exit and manage to catch her by the wrist before she so much as moves an inch. Ana's voice in your head aside, you don't want to let Widowmaker run from your grasp again. The possibility of being shot again doesn't phase you, though ruining Lúcio's concert is something you'd rather not do.

"Wait," you say, and then stand around surprised for a bit when she does. "I can't let you leave Lúcio's concert in a bad mood, that'd be a crime. Care for a dance?"

Your smile gets more sheepish as you utter the question. You hope she understands you mean literal dancing, not the sort you usually ask her for. You haven't been shot at so far - you take that to be a good sign.

"I have yelled at you." she says, oddly bewildered. "I have avoided you and I have shot at you. And yet here you still are. It is as if you have no instincts of self-preservation."

You grin wider than ever as she moves to take your hand in hers.

"I've been told I'm overly fond of risks, love." you tug her closer towards you. "But it's all well worth the payoff, I'd say."

She laughs as she wraps her arms around you, and despite being a mere quiet chuckle, barely audible over the commotion, you think it might be the most musical sound you've heard today (no offense to Lúcio, who's work you actually do enjoy. Now more than ever, really).

Even more so than before, every note of the music courses trough you as you dance with Amélie, even the fastest of beats coming nowhere close to the proper 130 beats per minute your heart seems to be pulling off at the moment.

You've been going about things all wrong this whole time - this is obviously the best kind of dancing with Widowmaker there could possibly be. You're sure of it now.

You wonder if she's thinking the same thing as you watch a smile cross her face. The light of the chronal accelerator that illuminates her face is nowhere near as radiant as the smallest quirk of her lips. You love the way the blue light looks on her.

She stays for one dance. Then another. Then another. It's only when Lúcio begins wrapping up the concert do you realise time's never gone this fast for you before (and you've lived entire months in the span of minutes back when you didn't have the chronal accelerator to anchor you).

You keep your arms firmly wrapped around her shoulders throughout the last song of the evening and you realise you really don't want to let her go, Ana's voice in your head be damned.

You focus on the feeling of her arms wrapped around you, too busy dreading the moment they disappear to notice yourself being lifted of the ground as Widowmaker hoists both you and herself onto one of the metal ceiling beams with her grappling hook.

"Sorry, but I would rather not be seen once the lights go on again." she explains. You nod, both to show that you understand what she means and because you're a little ecstatic about the fact that she took you to hide alongside her.

"That was a blast, love. Thanks for sticking around." you say, still holding onto her as you watch the lights go on and the people start to slowly file out of the building.

"It.... was fun." she says, voice oddly shaken. You carefully squeeze her hand in yours, waiting for her to speak up again. "I don't know what possessed me to stay." she says, voice quiet. "It's bad enough I lost the target, dancing around after failing a mission is definitely beyond my level. Maybe not beyond yours."

"Hey now," you say, giving her a little jab. "I happen to think that after a failed mission is exactly the best time to dance your heart out! It really gets the emotions out of your system. Lúcio's onto something with the audio-medic thing, you know."

"Still," she says after another pause. "It wasn't what I was supposed to do."

"You have the right to make your own choices, you know. Besides, do you think anyone but me really noticed? I won't tell on you, love. I'm no snitch."

"I don't know what's come over me lately," she says after a while, voice quiet and unsure. Your heart nearly shatters. "maybe I do not know who I am after all."

You're a little surprised she remembers the conversation from way back then.

"You don't have to." you tell her. "You can figure it out as you go. But promise me you'll do it by yourself, alright? I don't like Talon telling you who you are more than you like me telling you who you aren't."

She sits there for a while, squeezing your hand right back.

"You used to critique me for not knowing who I am before," she says, voice more confident and teasing than before. You don't think anyone's ever been as glad to hear smugness as you are right now. "was it getting shot that caused the sudden change of heart, chérie?"

"No, it's just..." you start, then stop. "I wanted to help you, but I was going about it the wrong way. I thought I knew you real well, but I guess I still have lots to learn."

"Is this confident little Tracer admitting fault? That is a first." Amélie says, and you give her a little shove, but can't help smiling at the smug grin that's now firmly back on her face.

"Oh, shush. Use it for blackmail, why don't you." you laugh. "I make mistakes, whoop dee doo. I'm not perfect."

"You don't have to be." she replies, and suddenly there's a warm press of lips on your cheek. "Adieu, chérie."

And just like that, she's gone again.

You sit there for a while, mindlessly rocking your legs back and forth with a big dumb grin on your face. You aren't sure how much time passes before you go about calling D.Va (who is hopefully still hanging about backstage) and explaining your whereabouts - namely, on top of a ceiling beam that you cannot, in fact, get down from.

The mockery and questions you get from the team are well worth the overall experience, you feel.

\--------

There is a certain buzz of excitement in the air of the base as the whole 'covert op' ideas go further and further into obscurity. The air is filled with excitement, confidence, and a twinge of uncertainty from those of you who remember what happened last time Overwatch got this confident.

Overall, there is a surprising amount of emotion within the air of the base. A lot of emotions, but thankfully, no dust - you and Genji have done your best to ensure that.

Even if you didn't feel the buzz in the air, the overlying excitement makes itself clear in other ways.

The excitement is clear in the way D.Va mentions Overwatch offhandedly on her broadcasts, streaming bits of missions more often by the day. Her fanbase has apparently familiarized themselves with most of the agents by now and you get used to occasionally stopping mid-run to have hello to them when Hana asks you to.

It's clear in the way Lúcio mentions Overwatch in concerts and other appearances and in the way the mention of the organisation receives a raucous applause more often than not.

It's clear in the way someone is always sent to accompany the junkers whenever they decide to hang around town for the day as damage control for the inevitable chaos that will ensue. This is exactly why they were purposely kept off the 'known Overwatch agents' list for as long as possible - an explosive maniac straight off the 'wanted criminal' list is most likely not the best poster-boy for an organisation like this. Viewers of D.Va's stream apparently love Junkrat, oddly enough, which somewhat helps keep the reputation (as well as Rat's ego) in check.

It's clear in the way Pharah and Mercy have found the timing calm enough to adopt a little kiddo. Ana looks as though she could explode from excitement. You watch the boy run around the halls with Chizuru and you can't help but smile.

It's clear in the way Ana's mission load is lessened by the day as she occasionally brings up thoughts of retirement, feeling like she's done enough to ensure the safety of those she cares for. You're a little conflicted about this. You make sure not to let it show.

It's crystal clear in the way diplomatic papers make their way back onto Winston's table, as they did once before. You laugh along with him as you remember his last attempt and you sit beside him as he works through a mountain of legalese.

The excitement is most clear in the way your smile shines as you watch the base, homely and full of life.

\--------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops once in a while.

Your own rooftop, sometimes, when she feels up for a visit. You spare the salute and bullet greeting then, offering her a cup of coffee being the new custom.

You spend a considerable amount of time sitting beside her on your windowsill before a combination of ever-colder winter weather and a sort of trust brings her to accept your invitation inside your room.

The conversation ranges from arguments to the occasional deep self-questioning therapy session. Sometimes she spends the whole visit sipping her coffee without saying a word. Whatever it is, it's a little embarassing just how happy you are to have her here. You're sort of glad noone else sees you in the 'excited puppy' state you occasional go into.

Well, almost noone.

You're in the middle of re-telling your latest successful mission to Widowmaker when Athena's voice suddenly rings trough the room.

"D.Va is approaching the room. Should I let her in?"

"Merde," Amélie mutters as she nearly falls off her chair in shock. You'd laugh if you hadn't had a very similar reaction.

"Uh, could you tell her I'm asleep, please? I hate to make you lie for me, love, but, well..." you ask after you've properly sat down again.

"For you, it is no problem, Tracer." Athena responds.

There's an odd look on Amélie's face as she looks around, deep in thought. You can tell she's a little more on edge than she'd previously been. "I'd completely forgotten about this thing."

"Hey now." you begin to chide her, not liking the way she speaks of Athena. You get ignored as Widowmaker suddenly addresses the A.I.

"It has been a while, Athena. I don't remember you being eager to function as a doorman before."

"It is nice to see you here again. As far as my duties, I do whatever is necessary to operate in Tracer's best interest and by extension, your best interest as well."

"Athena," you chide her. You'd wish she'd tone down the sass sometimes - scaring your guests away is not in your best interest. Though after seeing the unexpected little smile that blossoms on Amélie's face, perhaps Athena's done alright.

"Then I assume noone besides you knows I am here?" Widowmaker asks.

"Winston has knowledge of your presence. Not by my choice, I assure you - safety protocol dictates I cannot let anyone in without his knowledge."

"Wait, he's known this whole time then?" you suddenly ask. "He hasn't said a thing to me about it."

"He feels letting Widowmaker into base is safe and does not want to pry into your conversations." Athena explains. "Even if he did, he would be awkward about it, presumably. It is Winston."

You snort. "That's true."

You turn your sights towards Widowmaker, who still seems on edge.

"I hope this doesn't make you feel any less comfortable here, love."

"It's a little reckless to welcome someone like me into base, is it not?" she asks, voice equal part judgmental and genuinely curious.

"Well, Winston apparently trusts you, so you can't be that bad, love. I don't think anyone else would have much of a problem with it, really."

"Judging from the fact that noone questions Tracer occasionally bringing an extra cup of coffee to her room for no discernible reason, I would agree." Athena suddenly pipes up.

"Oh. Um. Whoops." you say as you watch Amélie look at you with exasperation. "Well, either way, you're always welcome here, Amélie."

You've gotten back into the habit of calling her by name again, which Amélie seems to be fine with. There's a certain rush of happiness that goes trough you every time you use the name. Perhaps you just like the sound of it.

She brings it up on what you assume to be a particularly bad day for her, reacting every mention of the name as to a stab.

"Why do you insist on calling me that? I'm not the Amélie you once knew." she snaps after a while. "I will never be her again..."

"It's a beautiful name. It would be a shame to waste it, don't you think?"

From the scowl on her face you assume that no, she doesn't think. You carefully move to take her hand in yours before you speak again.

"You don't have to be the old Amélie, you know. You have the ability to change who you are, and that's wonderful." You feel her eyes on you as a weak little laugh leaves you. "Me, I'll always be the same. For as long as time goes on, really."

You look past your windowsill to the stars and wonder whether even they will change before you do.

You feel your hand squeezed as Widowmaker shifts from her seat.

"Don't change, chérie." she says before placing a kiss on your cheek.

And with that, she's gone. You didn't even get to fully appreciate the bitterness disappearing from her voice. Or ask her to stay. The latter being something you do nearly every time she comes.

It always ends like this - her disappearing into the night, your plea for her to stay seemingly dissolving into nothingness as soon as it leaves your lips. Occasionally she at least leaves a little smooch on your cheek to remind you she was really there.

You'll keep asking. You're determined now.

\--------

You give a brief glance to the paper pile every time you visit Winston's lab - which is quite often. Both because of compulsory chronal accelerator check-ups and because you genuinely adore the guy.

"You know, I've always found your paper pile habit sort of fascinating, love. You wouldn't expect someone as fond of innovation and technology as you are to take their info trough an out-dated medium like that. Everything's been computerized for nearly a century now." you say one day as he fiddles with the accelerator.

"It's, uh. It's easier on the eyes, I've been told." he says, punctuating the statement by adjusting his glasses.

You laugh. "Well, I guess you'd ought to let your eyes rest a bit when they've had to routinely stare right at this little old lamp of mine for years now."

"And here I thought it was some weird primal nest-building instinct," Junkrat pipes up from his spot at the table. You've learned to accept Junkrat's occasional presence at the lab (he tends to be a tad more quiet and focused on whatever he does when he's here. The base needs an occasional break from the explosions, too). You will not, however, accept him making fun of Winston's animalistic features.

"Oh, you mean like the pile of junk in your room, love?" you smirk at him.

"Oy! It's a prized collection of junk, thank you very much! Can't waste good materials. You can make a lot more use of it than paper, that's for sure." he says, only looking up from whatever he's fiddling with for a second.

Anakh shrugs from their spot beside Winston. "You can make planes out of paper. That's something."

"You can make what?" Junkrat says, fully looking up from the table now.

Even Winston has to look up and stare at Junkrat for a bit after that one.

"Have you never made a paper plane, love?" you ask in honest disbelief.

From the "The hell are you on about?" you get in reply, it's pretty clear he hasn't.

Having grown used to his to Junkrat's presence at base over the years, it's easy to forget exactly how different of a place he grew up in. Even though it's been a long while since he's been to the Outback, the occasional odd knowledge gap comes up once in a while. You remember him being intensely confused by the idea of lava lamps and him nearly going insane when Lúcio showed him how popcorn is made (you still catch him staring at the microwave wistfully once in a while, listening to the kernels pop. "It never gets old, mate" he says to Chizuru, who intently watches alongside him).

You watch Anakh abandon their previous activity of watching the accelerator check-up (they seem so genuinely enamored with the concept of it that it warms your heart. Or perhaps it warms the accelerator. You can't tell.) in favour of making a simple, yet very much Vishkar-precise version of a paper plane out of some file they've grabbed off the table.

Junkrat's confused frown disappears as the paper plane soars over the table and bumps into his forehead. You smile and watch Anakh explain the proccess of making one as Winston works, occasionally turning around to see for himself ("Junkrat, no, I need that file!").

It takes a few minutes and a few ruined documents for Rat to sprint out of the room with a paper plane in his hand, calling Chizuru's name.

"How long do you think it'll be until he tries putting a bomb on it?" you laugh.

Winston shakes his head. "Not long enough."

The fond smile on Winston's face is well worth a couple paper plane based explosions, you think.

You like seeing the ape smile - with the growing positive attitude towards Overwatch, it occurs simultaneously less and more. The pride he feels never exactly goes away, just gets systematically replaced by stress as he reads file after file, preparing for negotiations with world leaders (which, so far, haven't gone his way at all).

You watch him tap his hand on the table a million times as he reads the same file over and over one day , seemingly not even noticing the snacks you've put before him.

"You know, love, I think what you're really missing is a classy little tie. It'd really bring your image together, don't you think?" you tease. He shakes his head.

"I'm knee deep in bureaucracy right now, Tracer." he says. You stay quiet for a moment, shrugging as you sit down in front of him.

"Your knees really aren't that high up, love."

His eyes stop moving back and forth trough the page, looking up at you.

He snorts.

You grin and hand him a sandwich. As long as the ape is smiling, your job here is done.

\--------

If there are three things Tracer is known for, it's smiling, running and an odd relationship with time.

People tend to think of time as this big, inescapable ocean, slowly growing over everyone, until they're swallowed by the depth. And they tend to think of you as a sort of time scuba-diver, swimming around as you please without drowning.

You, meanwhile, rather think of yourself as the lone boat on the ocean - vaguely able to row yourself back and forth, the waves always carrying you back to where you started. Utterly unable to do anything as you watch everyone around you gradually sink down to the depths over time. Try to follow them as you may, the waves push you forward.

You hate metaphors.

Your strategy on not letting the time-centered thoughts get to you is exactly what one would expect from Tracer - you run from time and smile right at its face when it does catch up to you.

You're sitting in Ana's retirement party and you know for a fact there's nowhere to run now.

And so you smile.

And there's no reason you shouldn't be smiling - the fact that Ana has deemed the people she loves to be safe enough to be able to remove herself from the fight is great news for everyone, really.

And so you smile. You smile as you notice every new wrinkle on Reinhardt's face. You smile as you think of Torbjörn's movement getting slower and more rigid. You smile as you remember noticing every new gray hair on Hanzo's head.

You smile at Ana as she invites you up for a dance, Lúcio's beats playing in the background.

You smile as Ana promises she'll still come for morning tea. As she hugs you tight.

You smile at everyone as you celebrate along with them.

You guess you smiled well enough, if even Ana, with all her perceptiveness, didn't say anything about it.

You get to your room late at night, lay down and even then you smile. You smile at time.

You take a deep breath and recall yourself back. Nothing changes. You blink yourself forwards. The world around you stays the same.

Then you smile at yourself. Everything is fine.

You turn around and face the pillow once you don't feel like smiling. The pillow muffles the blue light from your chest.

You aren't sure how much time passes before the familiar sound of someone climbing in through the window makes you lift your face up from the pillow.

No smile. You don't feel like smiling anymore.

You don't have to smile at her.

Amélie raises an eyebrow when she looks at you after closing the window.

"You look like you had as great a night as I did." she says, a small scoff escaping her lips.

"I sure did. There was a party and dancing and I had a blast." you rattle out in pure monotone. You lift a hand up after you sit up on the bed, leaning against the wall. "You wanna come be sad with me?"

"Absolutely." she says, dejected monotone matching your own. She sits down beside you and doesn't complain when you lean on her shoulder.

You sit there, listening to her explaining her night in vague statements and adding vague statements of your own, and you don't think you've felt any better tonight than you do now.

"You know, I've seen so many people die over the years. Horrible deaths - stabbings, shootings, explosions, illness, you name it. And I've lived it all down without so much as a blink. But the moment I spot a grey hair on someone's head or, god forbid, a new wrinkle on their hands, it's like sirens start blaring in my head. It's as if people dying normal, peaceful deaths is what offends my mind." you say, voice more bitter at yourself than you'd normally allow or need. You tend to hold yourself in pretty high regard. "It's all terrible, really. Terrible of me."

You sit there for a long while, leaning on each other as you spout vague nonsense. The light from your chest lights up the room. Your eyes might have drifted closed a couple times.

You catch her by the wrist when she tries to get up.

You can't handle her leaving you right now, too.

You beat her to the kiss this time, foregoing her cheek entirely and placing your lips right on hers.

"Stay," you ask her once you've pulled back, and she does.


	4. Chapter 4

It's six a.m.

From what you can see trough your window, it's a chilly day, but there's a sleeping silhouette in the bed beside you keeping you warm. You feel a little sad knowing you have to get up and leave the warmth now.

It's a good day to change the world as any, after all!

You begrudgingly get up, careful not to wake Amélie, who's basically cocooned herself in blankets overnight. You can't help but smile at the sight.

"Good morning, Athena." you whisper, hoping the A.I. hears you.

"Good morning, Tracer." Athena replies as quietly as she can.

You go trough your morning routine as usual, albeit more quietly than you would have gone about it a few weeks before. You only stop to look at yourself in the mirror.

Still the same as ever.

You grin at yourself, the happiness on your face evidently genuine.

You leave your room as swiftly and quietly as you can, making a dash for the kitchen as soon as you're out the door. Lúcio waves at you from his spot at the table.

"Hey there! You up for a race today?" he asks as you make a beeline for the coffee maker.

"Only if you're up for getting absolutely wrecked, love." you reply.

"Oh, it's on."

You smirk. It's so on. Crushing Lúcio is definitely in today's morning plans, but there's something that's a little more of a priority in the routine now. You pick up the cup of coffee you've made and head towards the door.

"You mind if take care of something first though?" you ask Lúcio, who's already moved to follow you. He glances at the cup in your hands and sits back down at the table.

"Go ahead, no rush." he waves as you leave the room. "Tell Amie I said hi!"

You nod, hoping he saw the gesture before you left the kitchen. You smile at the nickname.

With Amélie's growing both in frequency and in length over the past few weeks, it was only a matter of time before the other inhabitants of the base came into contact with her. It stared with one visit, after Athena told you that Chizuru was approaching the door and you absolutely couldn't let yourself turn the girl away, her visits being rare enough as is.

Impressions were made that day. Any prior conversation with Amélie was lost to a discussion of "Are you sure that's the junkers' child? She didn't even explode like expected" and related sentences, occasionally interrupted by visitors wanting to see what Chizuru had meant when she'd said "there's a pretty blue lady in Tracer's room".

By this point everyone has become at least somewhat acquainted with her. You're glad to see some of them genuinely appreciate her company, even if Amélie herself is still very much on edge about it.

Everyone very quickly learned that calling her by name is a bad idea, unless you happen to be Tracer, which is a criteria noone else could accomplish, you're pretty sure.

"How about we just drop the middle syllable and call you 'Amie'?" Lúcio suggested as soon as the problem came up. "It's short, nice, easy. It even means 'friend', don't it?"

"I am most likely the least friendly person you know." Amélie said with a scoff, but later on accepted the nickname with surprising ease.

You smile at the memory as you open the door to your room, careful not to spill the coffee all over the floor. You softly prod Amélie awake.

"Good morning, love." you say as you hand over the coffee. You earn a kiss for your efforts and you've already made the day worthwhile as far as you're concerned.

You sit by her as she drinks, talking about today's plans and whatnot. You can't help but prattle on and on, even if your plans of the day boil down to 'not sure yet, haven't visited the ape'. She looks down at her cup at the mention of Winston.

"I have been asked to go to Winston's lab again today. Other than that I have no plans." she responds when you ask her what she's doing today.

With Amélie spending more time at the base than not, Winston's been occasionally calling her over to discuss giving her her own room at base. The conversation basically boils down to Winston assuring Amélie she doesn't have to work on missions to live at the base and Amélie calling the ape wasteful of resources (in perhaps choicer words than that). She might have left Talon (which has different repercussions altogether) but the mindset of having to be useful seems to have stuck to her.

You ask her to be nice to Winston as you stand up and ready yourself to race.

"Oh, that's right," you say as you stop in your tracks. "Lúcio says hi."

"Tell him 'congratulations' when he wins your little morning race." she responds with a little scoff.

"Hey, what's with this lack of confidence in me, love? I'm winning today's race, I assure you!" you complain. The dumb smile on your face lessens the impact somewhat.

"When was the last time you won, chérie? It's only logical to cheer for the winning side, no?" she teases. And you'd had such a nice, soft conversation until now, too. Anyone else would be disappointed. You're ecstatic.

"You wanna make this a bet, love? Because I'm all for kicking your arse as well as Lúcio's."

She smirks. "Do your best."

Oh, it's on. It's really on now. Lúcio won't know what's coming to him.

The dumb grin rests on your face as you leave the room and proceed to get crushed by Lúcio's impeccable hall-racing skills.

That's fine. You've lots more mornings to beat him.

Lots more mornings to prove her wrong.

\--------

You occasionally wonder what's on your teammates minds during missions, careful not to get lost in your thoughts and run into a wall as a result (which is something you've regrettably done more times than you should have, for someone comparatively agile).

When Jack feels confident enough in his recovery to come back to missions, the answer becomes rather clear, judging from the way at least one member of the team seems to hover around him at all times.

The memory of an aggravated Jack trying to master tasks ranging from picking up a pen to shooting a gun with varying success replays in your mind every time you catch a glimpse of him or hear him trough the comm. You assume it's the same for Mei, who seems to be the current 'bodyguard'. And Zarya, who had been the one trailing him beforehand. And McCree, who circles 76 in a more subtle fashion than you'd expect from someone wearing obnoxious spurs on his boots.

When D.Va does her round as the Jack protector, it becomes outright comical.

"Can you all stop babying me for at least one mission?" he says over the comm.

Hana nearly keels over in laughter, mech and all. "How the tables turn," she manages to gasp out, and by that point she isn't the only one laughing.

"We're all dads now." Pharah chimes in over the laughter, which only grows from then.

You vaguely wonder whether you all look like a bunch of lunatics, running trough the streets guns ablaze, laughing maniacally for no discernible reason. And even if someone asked for an explanation, "dad's getting daddied" wouldn't tell anyone much at all.

"Stop," 76 says, and whether he's referring to the laughing or the guarding, his plea falls on deaf ears.

You take a moment or two to watch him in action when you're the one hovering around him.

There's a distinct difference in the way he aims if you look closely, but he seems to have it down pat by now. At the very least, well enough to confidently throw himself right into the fray at every chance he gets.

You stick around nonetheless, nonchalantly running around him in vague patterns as he moves along.

A masked face stares at you from a nearby rooftop, not unlike an edgy leather version of a gargoyle, and you take that as your cue to dash away elsewhere, as if clocking out from your shift on the dad-guard.

If anyone, you think Reaper will be stealthy about watching over Jack, being a literal pile of smoke and all. And even if that isn't the case, Reaper dad-ing people and rushing headfirst into the fray isn't an unusual thing for anyone, Jack included.

It isn't until you hear 76 ask "What are you even doing here?" do you realise Reaper isn't supposed to be on this mission at all, and you can't even remember the last time you saw him at base.

You proceed to laugh again, then promptly run into a wall.

Never a dull mission.

\--------

With Winston putting his focus more towards working trough the piles of papers in actually efficient speed (not that he was inefficient before, but he seems to tear trough the workload once he actually has the proper focus to do so without giving way to distractions), the others seem less and less inclined to burst into his office with whatever trivial nonsense used to lead them there before. While you appreciate everyone giving the ape some space for once, it means you don't have as much of a concrete knowledge of what's going on at base as you used to.

You decide to do a routine checkup of the base yourself - for Winston's sake, of course. Someone has to police the base's chaos, after all. And who better than you to do so!

This also makes it easier for you to collect information for the morning reports you still dutifully rattle out every time you wake Jack.

"Morning, love!" You start as soon as you step into his room, 6:20 a.m. sharp. "Base is lively today, most of us are here. Mei, Torbjörn and Zenyatta are scheduled to be back by 1 o'clock, mission status was 'all good' from what I recall. Reinhardt and Kyra are leaving for Chile at 4 p.m.. Reaper isn't back yet, at least his room was empty earlier. Hana has no streams scheduled for today. As for you, you have to swing by Winston's at some point, something about a detail on a report, but otherwise you're free today. That's all then!"

He nods in approval, not bothering to put his visor on yet, and you feel a little proud of yourself, even if these morning reports are second nature to you by now. "Mercy let Kyra go then?"

"They had to fight for it, but yeah. Kyra has a meeting with Mercy at 2:30. Afterwards, her and Reinhardt leave at 4."

Despite Kyra being around the base for a good while, this is actually the first mission she's assigned. It's something minor - only 2 agents are being sent, but she finally had a use for all her fighting spirit when she found out exactly how much opposition stood in her way of participation. Symmetra was a little reluctant when speaking about Kyra's reckless use of her skills and Mercy thought her to be too young. Reinhardt kept insisting on the idea despite that.

In the end, Kyra asked Winston's permission trough Anakh (she didn't do it herself as her innate respect for authority often times overlaps with fear, which makes you sort of glad you didn't know the people who ran Vishkar back when it was still operational). Winston was pretty happy about the idea of Kyra voluntarily going on missions and let her go without much of a thought.

Jack seems to like the idea as well, from what you can tell.

"She'll be fine, she needs to learn the ropes." he nods again, unseeing eyes closed. He pauses for a moment long enough for you to consider it a dismissal, but he speaks again before you leave. "...When's the last time Gabriel was at base?"

It's become customary for you to report whether Reaper is at base or not over the time he's sort of lived here. Reaper can't stand being confined to the space of the base for a long time, so he often either gets sent out by Winston on some long term mission or another, or he leaves for a while on his own terms.

"Thursday, two weeks ago." You say after momentarily consulting your little mind-database of Reaper-based info. It's actually nearly three weeks now, but you'd rather he didn't think of it that way. Judging by the look on Jack's face, your attempt at optimism doesn't change much.

Jack tends to get a little antsy when Reaper is out in an unknown place for a longer time. He gets worried, you realise.

Then again, he also tends to get antsy when Reaper is here at base. Worried? You aren't sure.

You move to sit down on the bed next to Jack. "Did you two have a row before he left or something?"

His face makes an odd little grimace. "We're honestly never not fighting, Tracer. Every time anything from the past comes up things just kind of... go wrong."

"That's cause you're both stubborn old men," you mean to say in your mind, and instead voice aloud. It turns out alright, you guess - Jack lets out a little huff of laughter.

"I guess we are, if we're fighting over something from so long ago. Angela said one of us will probably die before either admits fault." he says. You don't like that thought very much, but that doesn't stop it from holding some truth in it. "I always remember that when he goes off, for some reason..."

You lay your head on Jack's shoulder, still thinking about the thing Angela said, before you realise. Even with Jack's forced stoicism and roundabout ways of avoiding any sort of feeling in his words, you understand. You understand exactly what he worries about now.

"He'll come back, love. He always does. If he doesn't, I'll go drag him back myself."

"Can't drag a dead man back," he mutters.

"He's been dragged back from the grave once, there's nothing stopping me from doing it again." you shrug. "But you should really get it off your chest before he goes off again, love. Talk it out, apologize."

"Apologize for what? The fact that he got jealous and blew up Swiss?" he sort of mumbles again. You snort.

"You are literally impossible, old man."

"Look who's talking." he says with a small smile on his face, nudging you off the bed. "Go, you've still got half a base to wake up."

You give him a little salute as you walk off towards the door, forgetting he can't actually see it. "Aye, sir."

He lets out a little snort, then stops himself in the process of picking up his visor. "Thanks, Lena."

"No problem, love. Cheers!" you call out as you slip out the door.

He thanks you for the usual morning report every day. The use of your name, however, is new. You smile and go on with the morning waking routine.

You stick to your idea of checking up on the base for Winston long after 6 a.m. has come and gone.

You spend the morning hanging around Genji, who only came back from a mission yesterday - you've missed him. Which is why you stay around him as he attempts to do boring stuff like meditate. From the fact that he hasn't shooed you away yet, you'd assume he's missed you too.

"Hey, Genji. Hey." you call out to him after allowing a gracious 5 minutes of silence.

"What is it, Tracer." he responds without moving an inch.

"Zenyatta's coming back today, do you remember?"

"Even if you had not reminded me five times so far, I think I would have remembered." he says, and he's probably right.

This is one of the things you learned most clearly about Genji over the years - he remembers. He remembers people's actions and does not let them go.

Despite how many times Junkrat has helped Zenyatta out over the years, Genji is still wary of him because of that one time long ago when Rat lobbed a bomb at the monk - Genji hasn't forgotten that. He doesn't forget things easily at all.

The fact that he's forgiven Hanzo is honestly a miracle.

His tendency to remember has also affected his stance towards Widowmaker, which may or may not be another reason you're here today, besides the fact that you've missed the cyborg.

"Hey, Genji," you start again, waiting for some sort of affirmation he's listening to go on. "I sort of wanted to thank you. For being nice to Amélie, that is."

Now he actually moves from his spot, turning to face you.

"It is no problem. She helped save Zenyatta some time ago. I am the one who is thankful."

"Still, thanks. It really means a lot, honestly." you say, smile wide on your face.

Besides the overwhelming happiness that having Widowmaker around constantly has brought, there's been just as much worry to balance it out. Even though Amélie's been an official resident of the base for a couple weeks now (she even has her own room now, for when she gets tired of your nonsense), some of the people are still very wary of her and she herself does not feel trusted.

Which makes the fact that Genji continuously hangs around Amélie in a very genuine attempt to get to know her both very sweet and kind of helpful in assimilating her into the team. Seeing Genji's blind trust for Amélie, Zenyatta trusts her by extent, and with Zenyatta's approval she's gained the trust of most of those who were still skeptical.

Speaking of Zenyatta, you and Genji nearly miss his return when you get distracted by whatever you ended up talking about. You give a hearty 'welcome back' hug to the returning agents, all of whom have learned to expect you to jump at them as soon as their feet tap the floor of the base.

"You'll end up ripping my metal arm off with one of your 'welcome hugs' someday, I swear." Torbjörn grumbles as you cling to him.

"That's the end goal, love."

In the corner of your eye you spot a clock, which reminds you it's almost lunchtime. You keep that thought in mind as you skip to the kitchen and go about making a plate of sandwiches for an ape with bad time-management skills. You suppose that's what you're here for, isn't it?

You're nearly out the door of the kitchen when you suddenly turn around when the memory of Jack's sad little face from this morning stops you. You suppose it couldn't hurt to bring a cup of coffee by his room.

You walk out of the kitchen, masterfully balancing a plate of sandwiches with one hand, a cup of coffee in the other, and you get about a third of the way trough before Junkrat and Cheese happen to step in your path. You watch them eye the plate, not even a hint of subtlety on their faces.

"Oh, alright. Go on then. Take one." you say, extending the plate of sandwiches towards Chizuru. You pull it back when Junkrat reaches for it. "Not you. You'll soil them - your hands are a mess, love!"

He makes a face. "What? You're a mess, mate."

"Really? Look who's talking!" you laugh, pulling the plate back once Chizuru's taken a sandwich from it, careful not to mess the rest of them up with her hands, which happen to be nearly as caked in gunpowder as Junkrat's. You don't mind.

You vaguely hear Junkrat yell after you as you run off laughing. You assume it's all insults until you hear the words 'feed' and 'Hog'. You'll give Rat the benefit of the doubt and imagine the word that followed was 'please'.

You stop in your tracks when you notice a familiar figure almost successfully hiding in the shadows on the hall.

"Hey, edgeman." you say, making sure to keep your eyes locked onto Reaper in case he attempts to run off and ignore you. "Have you been by Jack's yet?"

"No." he answers, clearly not in the mood to deal with you. Too bad.

You force the coffee cup into his hands and turn him in the vague direction of 76's room. "Go be nice to Jack, you big dumb idiot. He's nearly as bitter as you today."

You spend a while pushing Reaper down the hall before you remember you haven't properly greeted him. "Hold on," you say, wrapping an arm around him in a weird side hug, your other hand still holding up the plate. Good enough, you guess.

"Is this really necessary?" Reaper grumbles with the deadpan voice of someone who's completely given up resisting your commands. Good.

"It's customary, love." you laugh, still holding onto him. You're doing this to annoy him rather than to greet him by now. "See, in the world of the living, this is referred to as affection, my dear undead friend. You should go give Jack some."

"Is it customary to lecture me about him as soon as I come back?" he says. You can hear the eyeroll in his voice. You keep your hold around him, standing up on your tiptoes to get closer to his ear. Or the hood covering his ear, at least.

"He worries that you'll die off without ever sorting your nonsense out every time you run off. Give him a break, would you?" you ask, dropping the mocking tone for a second.

You let go of him, offering one last pat on the back before you go off to Winston's office. "Off you go then, love! The coffee's getting cold."

You take one last glance over your shoulder as you make your way down the hall. You smile when you see Reaper go for 76's room as told.

You deliver some sandwiches and some words of encouragement to an overworked ape, then make another round trip to the kitchen.

You didn't need Junkrat's command to bring a snack to Roadhog - it's something you've caught yourself doing nearly routinely by now. You whip up another sandwich and move on.

The junkers' room is devoid of Roadhog, who usually spends this time of day reading there. You are confused for a whole few seconds before realising he might be at Symmetra's - they do the whole 'silence appreciation' thing around lunchtime once in a while. You vaguely wonder whether you should make an extra sandwich for her.

You should have made a lot more sandwiches, you discover when you enter Satya's room to not only find the expected presence of Hog, but the unexpected presence of Hanzo and downright surprising presence of Widowmaker.

"Cheers, loves! Are you all part of the whole 'silence appreciation' club then?"

"Yes." Amélie responds, raising an eyebrow at you. "But we can't enjoy the silence if you are here to disturb it."

"Relax, love, I'm here to deliver something, not to break up your little club." you shrug, placing the sandwich in front of Roadhog, who mumbles a muffled "thanks".

You momentarily wonder whether he'll actually have time to eat it now that he's hanging out here. Roadhog's gotten comfortable enough with most of you to take off his mask and eat, but the still fresh presence of Widowmaker makes things a bit more complicated.

You feel everyone's eyes on you as you pull up a chair next to Satya and plop down on it. "Right, what's the topic of the discussion for today then?"

You grin at the half-hearted glares and silence you get in return. You are not missing out on hanging out with this odd group of people, base-policing be damned.

Eventually the silence does get broken in favour of general conversation and thinly-veiled shit-talk about various people you've encountered over the past little while. You sit there quietly and listen for a bit, both because the conversation is generally interesting and because every time you so much as speak, someone makes a jab at you not being allowed to be in the club. You think it's hilarious.

"You know, you all have a similar taste in hairstyles, now that I think about it. The ponytail club." You catch yourself saying at some point. "Except for Satya, I guess."

You watch Hanzo carefully put Symmetra's hair into an acceptably immaculate ponytail, and then everyone's back to glaring at you.

"Aw, no fair. My hair's too short to put into a ponytail." you tell them.

"Maybe you should leave the ponytail club, then." Amélie responds, a little smirk on her face.

You laugh, but do end up leaving a minute later. You can allow yourself to break the silence, but messing up their look? That's a crime, right there.

You've still got a whole lot of base to cover, too.

You're walking around, wondering whether it's coincidental the the one day you decide to watch he base is the one day of the year when absolutely nothing interesting happens when voices from Mercy's main infirmary catch your attention.

"...and I honestly do not know that Reinhardt's thing for bringing young girls along to dangerous places is about, but I don't think I want to know." Mercy's voice rings out.

"Excuse me, what?" Kyra responds.

You lean against the wall near the infirmary door. You wonder whether Amélie would be proud of your spying skills or disappointed in the trivial nonsense you use said skills for.

"It's nothing. Listen, Kyra, you know I'm worried about your age and all..."

"You shouldn't be. I'm the same age as D.Va, and she's been going on missions for years! I've been on Vishkar missions before, and even if anything happens, Reinhardt will be there to guide me and..."

"I understand, Kyra, I really do. But if you want to go on this mission, you have to know I'm just as worried about Reinhardt's age as I am yours."

There's a moment of silence, and you vaguelly wish you'd taken the chance to leave unnoticed before.

"...You are?"

"He's nearing 73 now, Kyra. He's a stubborn one, and he keeps pushing himself no matter how many times I ask him not to. Of course I worry for him." she pauses for a moment. You hear her shoes clack as she takes a step forward. "Don't think I don't trust you to do well in a mission. I just want you to understand that you're out there to watch over him just as much as he watches over you, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am." Kyra says, her usually argumentative tone of voice replaced by a calm, serious one.

If you had to pick a moment to illustrate the change of generations in Overwatch, this'd be it. It really is a shame you'd rather not think about that, isn't it.

Maybe you shouldn't have gone patrolling after all.

You decide to move on to the training area. Somehow, you think 76 will be alright with getting a less detailed report with the excuse that you were too busy training to gather any info.

You let your mind rest as you do some mindless shooting practice with McCree, who happens to be there at the time. Your head's done enough thinking for one day, you feel.

"Heard you've been runnin' around playing police hound for Winston today." McCree says when you join him. "You here to finally put me behind bars then?"

"No, love, I'm afraid you get to live free another day." you respond, pausing your shots for a bit. "I thought I'd come here and let my brain catch its breath for a bit. Patrolling's a mighty stressful job sometimes, you know."

"It's good to let your mind rest and all, but don't get too complacent on me now." he shrugs.

"Otherwise I'll become like you, won't I?" you grin at him, then laugh when he gets defensive.

Talking to McCree is just as good a way to clear your head as any, you think.

By the time you've gotten to showing off your gun-twirling skills to McCree (who introduced you to the art a long long time ago), you're mind's been wiped of any worries.

Mybe a quiet and calm day at base isn't too bad, after all.

\--------

You really wish you'd appreciated the calm and (comparatively) quiet days at base when you'd had them.

Despite all of Winston's efforts to prove himself, and by extent, Overwatch, to the world leaders that hold the key to legalizing all your hard work, they seem to be reluctant to listen to him.

You don't know what their problem is. Winston even wore a little tie, as a last ditch attempt to prove his point.

"If all else fails, at least you look swanky, love." you tell him.

And all else does fail. You don't get to hear all of these conversations, having to miss many a deliberation due to missions, but you've noticed that the leaders' tend to repeat the same few arguments over and over, not bothering to listen to what Winston has to say, which makes your blood boil.

"Overwatch has not been of any use to society" they say, to which the answer is a long, detailed retelling of both recent and past success. You're beginning to think the leaders understand this bit to be naptime instead of deliberations.

"Overwatch harbors criminals - hand over Roadhog and Junkrat" they say, to which the answer is a succinct, concrete 'no'.

"I don't think they'd want Rat if they knew what he was like." you joke to Winston once, as you make your way back to base. "They couldn't handle him."

Winston huffs out a laugh, but the stress stays obvious on his face.

It becomes clear just how much the rest of you orbit around Winston as the stress builds. Missions start going wrong, injuries start piling up. The aura around base changes from confident to all-around dissapointed.

Everything goes from bad to straight up hell once fights start breaking out.

It starts with Junkrat (doesn't it always). You're in a particularly hectic mission, moving forward through enemy lines with the payload, when Zenyatta falls behind and gets outright swarmed with enemies. Junkrat, having apparently already decreed the mission a failure, leaves the front lines and goes back for the monk.

Even when not comparing to other thing's Junkrat has done, this stands out as a good deed as far as you're concerned. Others, not so much.

You've barely realised the payload is gone and the fight is lost before the sight of an absolutely furious, very much blood-drenched and loudly roaring Roadhog making his way back from the front lines catches your attention.

And then there's yelling. Boy, is there yelling.

Infact, yelling is the only kind of communication the junkers seem to have had since then.

Others, similarly stressed and insane, have followed in their footsteps quite well - from the more usual Lúcio - Symmetra clashes, to the more unexpected Hanzo-Zarya battles (you have no idea what this one could possibly be about, but they seem downright murderous sometimes and even you are a little scared to ask), everyone seems to have it out for someone, which really doesn't help your mission track record or the whole legality movement.

The fact that relations within the group couldn't get much worse (without exploding a base, at least) becomes clear when even Reinhardt loses his temper once he gets called out after yet another failed objective.

"Maybe you should go back to being retired." Reaper tells him as you're going back to base one day.

"Maybe you should go back to being dead!" Reinhardt roars out, the mighty sound signaling the end of optimism as you know it.

Not wanting to try anyone's temper, you spend the evening at base playing with Chizuru and Mercy and Pharah's kid. You're mindlessly putting together a Lego masterpiece, listening to the kids discuss the Lego racetrack they seem to be constructing.

Their light conversation is music to your ears, honestly.

Which is why it feels terrible to hear them start arguing over something trivial. "Not you too, guys," you whine to deaf ears.

"You two better pipe down right now or there will be no race track left to yell over in a second." you hear 76 say as he suddenly appears in the room.

The kids continue yelling, trying to explain their side of the story to Jack. You can't tell what either of them are saying.

"I'm not here to listen to your excuses, kids, figure it out or build something else. You're yelling as bad as everyone else on base right now - you sure you wanna be like that? Look, you're making Lena sad."

You guess you look pretty sad, as the kids start apologizing to you the second they see your face.

"It's alright, loves, really. Keep building your thing, I wanna see some racing." you tell them, before turning to 76. "You wanna play Legos with us, Jack? Look at this sweet tower I've made."

He shrugs and sits down beside you, giving a little nod of approval to the tower-ish construction you've put together.

"How's everyone doing? I haven't been about much since we got back." you say, adding another piece to your creation.

"About as great as you'd expect. There's a lot of yelling. Reinhardt's off sulking somewhere." he explains, then promptly changes his tone to give Cheese a little tip with whatever she's building. Even here, he can't help but correct people's form. Unbelievable.

"What about Reaper?"

You watch him use entirely to much force to put some pieces together as you ask the question.

"I haven't exactly looked, but I assume he ran off somewhere by now."

"Are you two fighting again too? Really?"

"I told you, we're never not fighting." he sounds ashamed of the fact. "I wish I could say I'm more collected than everyone else right now, but I'm not that good at the whole peacekeeping thing - you remember what happened last time I tried."

"You're really good at Legos though, sir," the boy suddenly pipes up.

76 barks out a weak little laugh. "Thanks, kid."

You count that as your cue to bust out some good old Tracer encouragement. "Don't give up, love. I'll be cheering for you the whole way through."

"I'm way past giving up, Tracer. Last time I tried that you ended up dragging me back here, anyway." he replies. He looks away from his Lego creation as he speaks again. "I'm not the hero I used to be - I'm not sure how heroic I ever was, honestly - but I'll be here to follow Overwatch into a brighter future."

No matter what he says, he looks to be the definition of heroic right now. From what the expressions of the kids in your peripherals tell you, you aren't the only one that thinks so.

"I'll push it into the light with my own two hands, if I have to." he says, and you can't help the smile on your face. "Well, my own one hand, I guess." he goes on, and then you're grinning for a different reason.

Leave it to Jack to brush off heroism with a dad joke, you guess.

The kids don't seem to share your exasperation, and readily offer their help to Jack. "Look, we've got hands! We'll help!"

You extend your hands alongside theirs, showing them off to Jack. The fond little laugh from him lights up the room - Overwatch has been brightened, as far as you're concerned. It's just a matter of showing that to the rest of the world.

Jack will see a lot more helping hands join this circle. You're here to make sure of that.

\-------------------

You do your best to stay calm and collected as tensions in base continue rising. This is not as easy as it sounds, seeing as neither 'calm' nor 'collected' are words that have ever been used to describe you.

You are fond of challenges, yes, but you think even you are starting to go slightly insane when the base remains chaotic despite your best efforts. And this time, you mean chaotic in a bad way, not the usual kind.

It's only when news of natural disasters start popping up, each one more ferocious than the last, do you realise that perhaps the chaos extends beyond Overwatch.

The tensions come to a standstill as the world itself seems to descend into hell around you. Earthquakes, tsunamis, volcano eruptions - the Earth itself seems to be shaking itself to the core, as if attempting to eject every single inhabitant out of its orbit.

With the way you've all been acting, you wouldn't be all too surprised if that were the case.

"Times like these are exactly why I brought us all together," Winston says as you prepare to leave base grounds. "Overwatch is an organisation meant to aid those in need, whether legally or not." he seems to still be slightly bitter about that. Rightfully so, you think - the amount of effort he's shown in pursuit of legality could kill a man with its intensity. Good thing he isn't exactly man, then.

As multi-talented as Winston is, acting is not his strongest suit, which is why he can't help the weariness from showing in his voice as he speaks. You're glad to see everyone listen to him nonetheless.

"That said," he goes on, clearing his throat to quiet anyone who might have turned their attention from him by that point. "I'd appreciate if you all made an effort not to paint Overwatch as an organisation based on discord. I expect you all to cooperate, both with civillians and with other agents. Am I understood?"

The response is an incomprehensible chorus of variations of 'yes, Winston', some with more sarcasm than others. The ape sighs, shrugs, and takes it for what it is.

You spare a moment to observe the group as you board the jet. It's been a while since the entire team's gone somewhere at once.

With Southern and South-eastern Asia being hit the hardest, Winston decided it'd be best to temporarily relocate the entire team to a more convenient location - hence why most of you, excluding the kids (who were left in Ana's care), Bastion and Athena (who were left to guard the base) are currently on your way to India. "Hopefully Vishkar didn't tear down the Indian Overwatch base while they were at it." Winston mumbles beside you.

India has undoubtedly taken the biggest hit from recent disasters, and the fact that Vishkar is no more hasn't helped the situation one bit. Without their main rebuilders to rely on, a large part of the country has been reduced to shambles, leaving your heart in near shambles as well.

You aren't sure whether it's due to sadness over these events, determination to help or underlying aggression, but the flight to India is the quietest the Overwatch group has ever been.

The loudest noise seems to be Winston's gentle snoring after he dozes off, having sufficiently scanned everyone with a watchful eye for a good while. You nod at the sight - he needs the rest. You'll watch everyone for him - helping's what you're here for, after all.

The tension in the room is thick enough to be cut with a knife. Or Genji's sword, if you were brave enough to try borrowing it at this moment. You wouldn't want to disturb his meditation - you assume that's his method of avoiding interaction with everyone in the vehicle.

The occasional chatter is muted and tense. You make sure to watch any chatterers intently, as if to remind them not to wake the ape. Not that the ape is easy to wake, really - the jet could very well crash into the ocean and he's still be sleeping - but it's the idea that counts.

Even Junkrat, who is usually a nightmare to travel with, seems to be deeply enraptured in some discussion with Mercy. You can't hear anything - they're as far away from you as they can be. Not due to your presence - you're a stellar person, you'd assure anyone - but rather because you happen to be seated near Roadhog, whose preferred method of ignoring everyone seems to be reading.

It's a little odd to see him and Junkrat apart like this, you think for a second. Then you remember the last interaction you saw between them (which happened to be them saying goodbye to Chizuru. You're honestly a tad bit glad she isn't here to watch them fight again) and decide it might be for the best while you're on an aircraft.

You'll knock some sense into them later, when the possibility of causing turbulence isn't a problem. Bombs and hooks you can brave. Aircraft trouble? Not so much.

You feel the weight of someone watching you watch everyone else, and you turn to meet 76's gaze. You give him a little smile and put up your hands, just to remind him you're here to help. Your smile widens when he returns the gesture.

You hear whispers rise above hush-levels and instantly turn your eyes to the source, which happens to be McCree. You keep your glare on him as his voice keeps rising. You aren't sure what McCree and Mei could possibly be arguing about, but you are honestly too tired to care at this point.

That's a scary thought, coming from Tracer.

"Glaring isn't going to work, chérie." Amélie says from her spot beside you. "Your face lacks the mean edge, I'm afraid."

"I can be plenty mean when I want to, love." you tell her.

"I'm sure you can. But it really does not translate through your eyes. Especially with the tired look on your face." she shrugs.

"I'm not tired," you instantly shoot back, assuring yourself just as much as her.

"Either way, your glare lacks power. Allow me to demonstrate." she says, turning her glare to match yours before you can so much as argue.

They shush near instantly. Widowmaker looks back at you, smugness basically dripping from her face. "You should join your ape friend and sleep, seeing how much good the glaring has accomplished so far."

You can't sleep now. You have a team to watch over. You shake your head and keep looking around.

You discretely (as discretely as you can) throw glances at Reaper's spot in the nearest corner once in a while. He's not making any noise - he hasn't even moved in a while, in fact - but something in your mind won't let you keep him out of your sights for long.

"Stop staring at me." he suddenly says after the umpteenth time you've checked on him. You'd like to say you didn't jump in surprise, but, well. "If I was going to jump out of a jet I would have done it long ago."

"I can never be sure with you, love." you smile.

That's basically why you keep watching over everyone now. To make sure.

You will back a yawn as you continue watching the perimeter.

Your watchful glare softens a bit when it reaches Symmetra, who's spent most of the trip staring off into space, a practiced pokerface mostly hiding her emotions. Said emotions include discomfort as he occasionally shifts in her spot.

No poker face could hide the bags under her eyes. You spend some time considering the merits of keeping an emergency blanket on you from now on - you could wrap it around Symmetra right now to help her out, for one.

You watch her shift again. The discomfort on her face is replaced by surprise when Lúcio suddenly extends something towards her. You tense. Knowing how their fights have gone the past few weeks, this could potentially end with Winston being woken up, not to mention the jet crashing. Symmetra doesn't even refer to the arguments as "civil disputes" anymore. Rightfully so - they don't tend to stay civil for long.

"Here." Lúcio says, receiving a look of utter confusion in response. "It's a travel pillow. I keep it around on flights - really helps you get comfortable."

You probably look just as confused as Symmetra right now, albeit probably less cautious. There doesn't seem to be any anger in Lúcio's voice, which keeps you from interfering.

"...Why are you giving this to me?" Satya asks. No poker face could hide the raspiness of her voice.

"You need the rest more than I do right now." he says, still holding the pillow up, despite the fact that Satya's made no move to take it. There's a distant look in his eyes. "I know what it's like to see your home in pieces."

You would have expected a lot more malice in a sentence like that.

You watch Symmetra carefully take the pillow from Lúcio's hands and you feel a weight roll off your chest. You glance down to make sure it's a metaphorical weight, not the weight of the accelerator. You kind of need that to stay in place, as heavy as it can be.

"It isn't going to suddenly blast music at me, is it?" Symmetra says, giving the pillow a thorough examination. Lúcio laughs.

"Nope. But if you want I can hook you up with some of that, too." he responds, lifting up a pair of earbuds to demonstrate.

"That will not be necessary."

"Suit yourself," Lúcio shrugs before putting the earbuds into his own ears.

You feel a sense of optimism come back to you as you realise you've just watched an interaction between Lúcio and Symmetra that didn't result in disaster. If these two can cooperate, then you're sure everything can work out just fine. Winston would be glad.

You remember the look in Satya's eyes as she pleaded Winston to let her head the rebuilding efforts her way. The look on Kyra and Anakh's faces. You wonder whether it was the same memory that pushed Lúcio to help Satya out - the look on her face had been haunting to say the least.

The calmness on her face as she dozes off is a nice contrast from that. You see Lúcio give himself a slight nod when he realises the pillow helped. He closes his eyes and drifts off.

You feel another yawn come up. It feels different now that you've got some genuine optimism in you.

"I might be reconsidering your advice from earlier, love." You say as you turn to Amélie. She raises an eyebrow. "A nap does sound awfully inviting right now."

"Go ahead, chérie. I'll even take care of the glaring for you."she says, offering her shoulder as a pillow. You need no further invitation to snuggle up. "Noone can hide from my sight."

You snort. "Nice one, love."

You close your eyes and despite the whirring of the jet's mechanisms, Winston's snoring and the general noises of a whole lot of Overwatch agents in one place, you feel a sense of peace surround you.

\--------

It's a good thing you enjoyed the silence while it lasted, you guess.

Despite the efforts everyone puts in to appear nice and collaborative to both Winston and the local population, the tension doesn't really go anywhere. The moment the ape turns his back, the smiles on everyone's faces drop and the yeling starts up again, as if Winston turning around disabled his sense of hearing.

The ape sighs, shrugs, and takes it for what it is.

The notable exception to this seems to be Symmetra - she spends the vast majority of her time heading rebuilding efforts (you don't know whether Winston actually gave her permission to do so, but that's irrelevant now) with impressive focus, Kyra and Anakh following along her plans.

The other rebuilding teams stationed here barely get a chance to poke fun at her before they find themselves inadvertently following her word, which is mostly delivered by the apprentices, Satya herself being too absorbed in her work to speak up.

She prefers it this way, you realise. Not being put on a leadership pedestal lets her work in relative solitude. It also spares her the responsibility of keeping up a strong and tireless facade - the fact that the workload is wearing her down is obvious to everyone.

She does, however, react to some of the rebuilders suddenly bringing out Vishkar technology, but only when their apparently inept usage of the tech wears on her nerves.

"If they cannot do it right, they'd be better off not using it at all," you hear her nearly yell one day, finishing a now-unusual rant after seeing a shoddily done wall. The look in her eye is not only hurt, but it borders on downright murderous, and you ready yourself to jump in her path if she decides to retrieve the tech by force.

You're beat to it by Reaper, of all people, who suddenly materializes behind her. You keep yourself hidden from their sight, curious.

"Beating them up over it won't do anything." he says. "Teach them, if you know it so well."

"Do not speak as if you know what you're talking about." she says. "They simply do not possess the competence to handle our sophisticated technology."

"Lúcio got it pretty quickly," he shrugs. " and I don't think I've ever heard you describe him as 'competent'."

She stays quiet for a while. "...Why are you bothering me?"

"Because your reaction to this bothers me. And bothering me hasn't really worked out for anyone so far."

"I am not sure much in life has worked out for you, all bothering aside. I would avoid speaking so rudely if I were in your place."

You aren't entirely proficient in edgelord, but you're pretty sure Reaper laughed just now. This is not a conversation you ever expected to witness.

"Structurally, I'm about as sound as that broken fence over there, true. But experience wise, I've got a couple decades on you, kiddo." he pauses, presumably to take in Satya's reaction to being called 'kiddo'. "You'll want all the help you can get. Think it through."

He wraiths away, leaving a very confused Satya and an equally confused you. You can't remember the last time you saw Reaper talk to someone, much less give them advice.

Symmetra seemingly ends up taking his advice, and, judging from the expanding group of apprentices she builds up over the next few days, it works out.

She continues working in silence, although the look on her face occasionally shifts from focused to contemplative.

You don't hear much from her until your post-disaster efforts bring you to a town right near the omnium, giving the group to get a chance to take a look at it.

The dome looks ominous, even from a distance. Your instinct to run over and touch it is shut down along with Torbjörn's, who's been grumbling about the structure the entire way here.

"No!" Symmetra exclaims the moment she sees you ready for a sprint. "It must not be touched. It relies on a unilateral principle."

She goes on after she sees the confusion on your face.

"Um, one-way. Matter and energy can enter the dome, but nothing can leave."

The faces among the group vary from deeply thoughtful to even more confused than before. Torbjörn looks as if he's about to lose his shit. You begin a mental countdown. You manage to count to three before he speaks up.

"Why in the fresh hell," he growls, enunciating every syllable. "would you design it like that?!"

"It was to ensure the structure is undamaged by the omnics' resistance. Surely it was not our first choice, but under the time constraints we had..."

"I already thought the whole gaudy snow globe design was terrible enough, you mean to tell me it's also a deathtrap?!"

He raises his arms in the air in frustration. Then he cups his head in more frustration. Then extends them again in even more frustration.

"The radioactive buildup was bad enough, the energy buildup in there must be insane! Forget radiation, it would level the country whole if it blew!" he yells, pacing angrily. "And then you tried to build another one! I swear, I'm quitting engineering after this, I cannot believe..."

He stomps off, angrily yelling at nothing in particular. Noone stops him. You don't think he wants anyone to.

"How big of a blast can it hold?" Junkrat pipes up all of a sudden. "I were to, say, lob all my bombs at it--"

"Junkrat, no," Winston and Mercy instantly stop him in tandem. They share a momentary look of exasperation.

"It... It would withstand that, yes. It is designed to withstand explosions on a large scale." Symmetra explains.

"Would it have lived the Vishkar base bomb?" 76 pipes up.

"Absolutely. The weakest part of it is the outside edge, due to the possible structural misalignment..." she keeps her face mostly emotionless as she speaks. She's practiced this. "But as long as the bomb is centered it could withstand a blast of any conceivable size."

The dome's tall structure stays in the distance for most of the ride to the next town over.

In comparison to the places you've been to so far, this city seems much better off than others - hence why you're only staying here overnight. Despite some areas being more damaged than others, the city has quite a few impressive buildings that seemingly shine, even as dusk sets in over the city.

You see Torbjörn's nose scrunch up. "The architecture here reeks of Vishkar." he grumbles.

You learn that the city holds some importance as Kyra retells what she knows about it. Having been a comparatively large city pre-omnic crisis, it suffered a lot of damage during that time, and was only rebuilt to its previous state during the last decade.

"A lot of governmental institutions and industrial companies moved back here right before the omnic attacks started up again, therefore the population grew - that's why they needed to get rid of the omnium as quickly as possible." Kyra says, leisurely walking beside you. You feel a little pride in the fact that she doesn't seem nearly as constrained around you as you remember her being when you first met the girl.

She continues on, explaining the fact that the location of the city makes it less prone to damage from natural disasters and convenient for refugee shelters for those from less fortunate cities. "The big buildings that aren't governmental are most likely all shelters."

You aren't surprised when Lúcio organises a little group to visit some shelters as soon as he hears of this. You join in, never one to miss a chance to get acquainted with locals. You're here to bring up their spirits just as much as the agents'.

You're a little surprised when Symmetra meekly asks if she could join you. You don't allow her a moment to doubt herself, linking your arm with hers as you walk down the street, doing your best not to overspeed your step.

The people in the shelters are surprisingly happy to see you, offering you hospitality and kind words and you realise you might have got it backwards - your spirits are the ones being lifted here.

You watch a small smile grow on Symmetra's face. For the first time in a while, she looks sure of herself, as though she feels her efforts are all worth it.

Winston was right - this is exactly what Overwatch is for.

\--------

Despite how tired your may feel, sleep doesn't come easy that night.

This may be due to overexitement - your determination to do your best tomorrow may be making you too jittery to rest. Or anticipation - you've been pretty adept at ignoring the occasional tense aura in the air, writing it off as a side effect of your teammates recent relations, but moments like these pretty concisely convey the feeling of the calm before a storm.

It may also be the fact that you ended up with Junkrat as your roommate.

Your stay for the night was already deep into discourse by the time you and the rest of Lúcio's shelter-visiting group got there. The recent 'civil disagreements' between various agents had apparently caused a lot of problems when it came to sharing rooms, and the chaos only grew with your arrival.

Eventually Mercy got fed up with trying to mediate and declared that roommates will be decided by pulling names out of a hat and that all arrangements are set in stone as soon as a name is pulled.

You can't remember the last time you saw a full room of people look at McCree's hat with such intensity. You think you heard a couple prayers being whispered. You sort of felt like joining in the prayer when you realised your chance of rooming with Amélie relied on the kindness of the hat, but then you realised you didn't need any of that - you're Tracer. You had this in the bag.

(Or, in this case, in the hat.)

You gave Amélie a little wink as you walked up to the hat with a confident strut. You saw her hide a small laugh as you theatrically reached into the hat with all the confidence in the world. Then you saw her fail to hide a laugh when all your confidence faltered immediately after reading the name you'd pulled out.

You'd never roomed with Junkrat before. The upside is nobody's died from rooming with him yet. The downside is the word yet in that last sentence.

It is not as bad as you'd expected - not a single explosive has been set off so far. You even manage to eventually fall asleep, after listening to Junkrat tinker with his bombs for a good while. You might be rethinking your prior claim - the restless sleep you fall into doesn't seem like Junkrat's fault.

The fact that you're woken up at 4 a.m. by his restlessness is absolutely on him though.

You speak when he finally sits up, destroying any hope of silence and rest for you.

"Trouble sleeping, love?" you ask, voice half muffled by your pillow. You can't help but laugh when he spectacularly flips off his bed in surprise, cursing up a storm. "Shh, you'll wake everyone up! I'm pretty sure Pharah's sleeping right behind that wall there."

That seems to shut him up somewhat. You'd shush too - Pharah wouldn't take kindly to a rude awakening like that.

As you listen to him grumble about not being able to sleep, it becomes clear that this isn't that rare to him.

"You ever roomed with Hanzo, love? He also tends to wake up at 4 a.m. Likes to pace around the room. maybe that helps him, I don't know."

"I can barely stretch my legs out without bashing the peg into a wall, the hell am I supposed to find space to pace around? That's a stupid idea if I've ever heard one." he replies, demonstratively touching the wall with his foot. "Usually Hog helps out and I go back to sleep, but that's not an option now."

"You two should talk it out already, I swear. There's enough vitriol in this group as is." you shrug.

"I've been tryin, mate! The lug won't listen! I mighta told him to piss off at some point and I think he took it seriously and he won't even look at me now. I don't wanna talk about it." He's fiddling with the screws in his arm. You aren't sure that's a good idea, but neither is trying to stop him. "This mission's the worst. The hell's the point of rebuilding all this shite if it'll just fall over again? I'm more of a demolition guy myself and there isn't even anything to blow up here. And Hog won't talk to me. And I miss my little girl! Mate, this is the worst."

You listen to him rant away when an idea comes to your head. A questionable idea, but it's something.

"You wanna go do some target practice, love? Always helps me when I'm down."

You never considered shooting Indian foliage with Junkrat at 4 a.m. to be a goal in life, but here you are - a ways away from the city (as to not cause any alarm), trying to prove you've got better accuracy when it comes to throwing bombs at unsuspecting bushes.

His giggles become closer to the usual maniacal laugh you'd expect from him with every throw you flub.

"Sod off, Rat, like you're any better! My bombs are more set than thrown anyway." you say in between your own giggles. Say what you will about Junkrat's laugh, it's undoubtedly contagious.

The laughing doesn't help your aim one bit, and both the difficulty and the hilarity rise with every attempt.

If you hadn't been actively losing your marbles, you may have even noticed the slight droning noise in the distance. Or perhaps the rustle of trees somewhere further behind you.

It's only after a particularly shabby shot on Junkrat's part do you notice something flying towards you in the distance.

"The hell is that?" he asks, and you aren't sure what to tell him. You keep looking as it gets closer.

It's an aircraft of some sort, based on the fact that it is indeed flying towards you. You don't recall ever seeing one like it - it seems to be flying much too low to be safe with all the trees around here and as it gets closer you realise it's a slight bit small for the average pilot to fit inside. It's also emitting a droning, yet oddly high-pitched noise.

It also seems to be carrying something. You can't see exactly what it is due to the obscene amount of light surrounding it.

You and Junkrat share a look that screams 'the hell was that about?' as the aircraft flies over you and further on. You barely get a word out before it suddenly doubles back and drops its cargo right in front of you.

Upon further inspection, it's clearly a sphere about the size of your head, and it isn't only shrouded in light - it's emitting it. Along with the odd noise, which has risen to a constant screech now that the source is closer to you.

Despite said screech assaulting your ears, you manage to hear a deep voice yell "Get back!" as the light flares. You hear Junkrat yelp as a hook suddenly drags him out of the clearing and you realise you should probably get out of there.

You blink yourself towards the source of the voice and your feet barely touch the ground before an explosion rings out behind you. A large hand steadies you as you stumble, and you look up only to be faced with a familliar gas-mask.

"Roadhog?" you ask as he lifts his hand off your back. His other hand is holding up Junkrat, who seems to be just as confused as you.

"You... you've bailed me out again, Roadie!" he exlaims, confusion giving way to joy. "I'da been dead meat if I'd tried hobbling out with my peg leg, but you got me! C'mere, you beautiful bastard!"

Junkrat goes on as he suddenly clings to Roadhog's neck. Hog doesn't seem surprised (he never does). "Mate, what would I do without you?"

"Explode, evidently." Hog replies, moving to steady Rat.

"Yeah, probably." he laughs. "I'm so glad you're here, mate!"

"Why are you here, love?" you ask.

"Followed you. Thought you were up to something." he shrugs.

"We just wanted to explode some foliage, honest." you shrug right back at him. "Someone seems to have upstaged us a tad. I've never seen a bomb like that before, though."

"Like the core..." you hear Hog mumble. You don't get to question him before Junkrat interrupts, still clinging to Roadhog like his life depended on it. It sort of did, a minute ago.

You give up on speaking to Hog and instead turn around to inspect the damage. Your little bombing-spree might have caused some destruction, but it was nowhere near the number the light-bomb did on the place. There's dust everywhere, but the ground is oddly lacking a distinct crater of any sort.

"I was beginning to think you wanted me dead before, mate! All this ignoring isn't good for my fragile little heart, ya hear?" Junkrat's voice goes on behind you as you keep looking around. "Deep down though, I knew you still love me."

"Unfortunately so." Roadhog replies, and Junkrat goes on, laughing, but you aren't listening anymore, something else having caught your attention.

"Uh, lads?" you say, slightly reluctant to break their little moment. "You might want to take a look at this."

You point in the direction you vaguely remember seeing the aircraft originally fly in from. There seem to be a couple small dots in the distance, which normally wouldn't be cause for alarm. If they weren't closely connected to what appear to be dots of light, that is.

There are more of them.

It takes you about a second to realise the aircraft had originally been flying towards the city before it looped back for you.

"Get to base, we're under attack!" you say, turning around to face the junkers. "I'll go ahead and warn the others."

You don't bother waiting for a reply before you turn towards the city. And then you do what Tracer does best.

You run.

\--------

It's nearly six a.m.

But you don't wait for the clock or stop at a mirror today, there's no time. You speed trough the convoluted halls towards Winston's room, hoping your voice will be enough to wake everyone today.

It seems to have worked, as everyone goes from sleepy and confused to alert and ready to fight in record speeds, absolute turmoil filling the base as people follow your example and run around.

The comm is up and running, and even though most agents have yet to turn theirs on, the channel isn't without noise as Winston tries to get everyone in order. This includes the junkers, who are making their way back as they speak.

"Omnic air units," Roadhog says. "Probably the same kind that took Vishkar."

The chaos goes on as Winston tries to figure out the specific place the omnics are targeting, with contributions both via comm and not, creating a jumbled mess of a conversation.

"The main square, that's where the governmental centre is." Mei's voice suggests as soon as the question is thrown out.

"The southern district," Kyra says. "it's the most populated..."

"Are you serious? An attack on the shelters would be the most devastating!" Lúcio yells back.

Loud voices continue the conversation even as Winston starts splitting people into squads and giving them specific placements in the city. Time seems to speed itself up as everyone frantically runs around, not having originally prepared to fight on this mission.

A few teams have left base to various corners of the city, unsure of specific attack coordinates, when you see Torbjörn suddenly freeze in his step in your peripherals. You watch his visible eye widen as you turn to face him.

"The omnium," he nearly whispers.

There's a moment of stiff silence in the room, everyone's faces suddenly mirroring Torbjörn's as they remember his outburst from your first visit to the omnium:

"...it would level the country whole if it blew!"

The frantic aura continues as Winston shouts out a new game plan over the comm - everyone to the domed omnium as fast as possible.

You look over the horizon before getting into one of the janky trucks that you've been using to transport yourselves around the country and the unnatural collection of light in the distance tells you there might be more than just a few omnic air units on the way. They're preparing for a fight.

So are you.

You hear Winston attempt to negotiate at least some sort of cohesive strategy. The strategy lasts about five minutes, right up until the first few lightbombs land near you and all hell breaks loose. Just like the ground, in some spots.

The dome looms over a large part of your field of view, its presence unwavering even as you focus your attention entirely on the aircrafts.

Having mostly dealt with ground-based conflicts up until now, some would say Overwatch isn't exactly prepared for aerial bombardment. They wouldn't exactly be wrong. But that doesn't mean you aren't prepared to give them hell.

There's a slight smile on your face as you watch Pharah and Mercy instantly take to the skies, the rest of you standing your ground at the foot of the dome.

Noone is prepared for the combined chaos this many Overwatch agents brings, after all.

It's a good day to change the world as any.

And you're ready to make that happen.

The omnic aircrafts seem to be unable to fly very high. Be it due to the weight of the lightbombs of the general build, it does not do many favours for them, allowing even the more ground-locked of agents make a mark.

Sure enough, it doesn't take long for the chaos to set in. You watch D.Va's mech take down one of the planes by ramming it down before you're really convinced.

The genral consensus is that the aircrafts must be stopped before they get anywhere near the edge of the dome, leading you all to get rather spread out as planes start veering left and right to escape you.

By the time the omnics start throwing down ground mechs along with the bombs, the battle has already become a downright pandemonium. The comm lines are filled with war cries, commands, screams, maniacal laughter - everything.

You run past the source of said maniacal laughter as he lobs his own bombs at the aircrafts.

"Nice shot, love! Good accuracy!" you yell at Junkrat, and you swear his laughter gets even louder.

While Pharah and Mercy do commandeer the air front, you realise they aren't the only ones to dive right into the fray. Along with attacking from the ground, some seem to find their own ways of getting into the air.

"Junkrat!" you hear Genji call out as he runs toward him at top speed. "The mine!"

Junkrat throws out a concussion mine and soon Genji is flying trough the air, his sword already out by the time he collides with one of the aircrafts. You barely get out of the blast radius of the bomb said aircraft drops in time.

Zenyatta helps you up off the ground, and you feel the safety of his orb of harmony for a little while before he moves on to help D.Va, who seems to have moved to the ground-mech front.

You're making good work of the ground mechs yourself when you see an aircraft spin out directly into the dome, bomb and all. You tense in fear for just a moment - long enough for the arm of a mech to knock you down onto your side.

You turn to the dome before getting up, only to see the vague hint of an explosion beneath its blue glow.

The dome doesn't budge.

You realise the droning noise you've been consistently hearing has gotten too loud for comfort a second before the light of a nearby bomb flares.

The noise is abruptly overpowered by the sound of familiar beats as Lúcio slides in, picks you up and gets you away from the blast before you can get your apparently bleeding left leg working.

"Come on, Tracer! You can keep up!" he tells you as the beats wash away the pain. The song changes, and soon you find yourself sped right into the fray again.

You feel the battle wearing on you as it goes on, your bones aching to a point where even the chillest of beats cannot do much to keep the pain away, and still you smile. You smile and you move along, as Tracer should.

Your smile falters every time you see a teammate fall, a stab of worry getting very close to distracting you as you plead someone to help them up over comm.

Your head snaps towards 76 the moment you hear his voice yell out in pain as a mech gets a good melee hit on him. His unmuffled voice, you realise when you see the confusion dawn on his face as he gets up, suddenly sightless.

Sightless, and most likely not fully aware of the lightbomb that's just been knocked into a spot right next to him.

You blink yourself over to Jack, grab onto him and drag him out of there as fast as you can, hoping to have at least a moment to look for the fallen visor.

You do get a moment, technically. You get a moment to spot the visor right as the light flares and expands, eating up both the mech that originally knocked the thing off and the visor itself, along with any hope of sight for Jack.

"It's alright, Lena," he says, interrupting your panicked babble as he throws down a biotic emitter. "I'm not out yet, believe me."

You have no choice but to believe him as the battle eventually finds him again. There is an air of outright panic around him as every nearby agent tries their best to give audial cues to help him out. The comm's feed is filled with directions from Pharah and Mercy, who do their best to juggle their own battle and look out for Jack, as well as exclamations from those who happen to be nearby enough to work as Jack's eyes, even though accurate sight is a rarity that likely only Widowmaker possesses at this point, due to obstacles such as the light from the newly incoming bombs, the dust from ones that have already exploded and occasionally Reaper's smoke. Unluckily for all of you near Jack, Widowmaker happens to be ways away from here (doing fine, you hope).

Jack seems to mostly hold his ground, even if it's clear the hit had more of an effect on him than simply loss of sight. You stick near him as much as you can, even as the rising number of mechs pushes you further from him.

You barely dodge the fall of one of said mechs when you notice Winston joining the air battle, soaring trough the air with surprising grace and nearly bringing down an aircraft with the sheer power of his landing alone. You grin. Atta, boy.

Your grin is interrupted as the mech suddenly gets up and restarts fire, forcing you to recall yourself into a standing position. Only to knock into Zarya, who seems to be entirely too well lit up to be safe.

You barely get to voice your panic before you watch Zarya pick the lightbomb up in her hands and chuck it back at an aircraft. The explosion destroys two planes entirely, a third one brought down by imbalance from the shock waves. Several variations of "What the hell" and "Warning next time, please" ring out over the comm.

You open your mouth to apologize for knocking into her, then close it again when an idea strikes you.

You haven't exactly taken part in aerial combat since your days as a pilot trainee. Seeing Winston's spectacular aerial performance, you think it might be about time for lil old Tracer to fly back into the fray.

Zarya gladly throws you into the air when asked and once you overcome the instant stab of repressed memories coming back, you find a grin splitting your face as you blink yourself onto a plane, leaving a lovely little sticky bomb before catching the wing of another one, leaving a little gift for that one as well.

You flip through the air, managing to catch one more before the first one goes off. Explosions surround you from all sides and it takes you a moment to realise you're falling. You close your eyes and try not to remember.

You try to focus on what time it is, but you don't know. You don't know and you're not sure you want to know.

A head of armor looks back at you once you open them again, the vaguely blue light of your chronal accelerator reflecting off his metallic sheen.

"Nice of you to drop in, Tracer!" Reinhardt says, punctuating it with a hearty guffaw as he moves to put you down on the ground.

"Always a pleasure, love!" you laugh back, but Reinhardt's run off before you finish the sentence.

You turn around and see him come to the aid of Roadhog, who's managed to hook one of the aircrafts. Reinhardt grabs the chain just as it threatens to knock Hog off his balance. You watch them pull the hooked aircraft onto another one, creating a blast that expands into the dome itself. You brace yourself as another lightbomb falls into the dome as a result.

The dome doesn't budge at all.

You come to the aid of McCree, who seems to be fighting down one of the mechs by himself. "I've got this one, Tracer." he says.

You raise an eyebrow at him, but give him space, moving onto another target. You see the mech fall in your peripherals a second later, punctuated by a loud whoop from the cowboy.

You get to be impressed for a good second before Mercy's scream rips trough the comm and you freeze. So does McCree, apparently surprised enough to not notice the lightbomb that seems to have landed a few metres behind him.

This wouldn't be that much of a problem if the bomb wasn't a good bit larger than the previous ones. You yell over the droning bomb screech at McCree. Your eyes instinctively close as the bomb flares, but not before you see a smoky dark silhouette push McCree out of the range.

Another, much deeper scream sounds out, the comm long gone by the time the blast dims enough for you to open you eyes, instinctively teary.

That wasn't just Gabriel Reyes that was screaming just now. There were a lot more souls involved in that cacophony of outright pain.

Which is followed immediately by a second, more familiar chorus of panic as Reaper's name is called out by everyone in the vicinity.

There's smoke everywhere. You think you see Zanyatta glow in transcendence roughly where the lightbomb had gone off and you close your eyes in hope.

The combination of the distinct screech of a lightbomb that's entirely too close and Mercy's voice weakly warning everyone about the larger lightbombs forces your eyes open again. You blink yourself forward, barely escaping the range of the blast.

You feel relieved for one second, before you realise the sound hasn't disappeared. You look left in time to see another flare. You don't have a blink at hand.

As strong as they are, your legs don't quite get out of the range of the light. You feel your legs singe, a different kind of pain than the soreness you were already feeling. You aren't sure you can get up now.

Your ears are ringing. The ground below you keeps shaking, as if the earth itself is trying to throw you off into space.

The only movement your eyes see is the flying silhouette of Pharah, as she maneuvers around. A look around the ground gives you a glance of a fallen Hanzo nearby. You cling to the occasional movement of his shoulder as hope. A look in the other direction shows you D.Va's mech, bent inward in a way it shouldn't be. You cling to the still visibly lit up screen as hope.

A further look around shows the laying silhouettes of Mei, Jack, Torbjörn and Zarya. You cling to hope.

You see Pharah's rockets explode the only remaining ship in the sky before the blast brings her spiraling down. You see the empty sky and you cling to hope.

Then you acknowledge the humongous lightbomb that last aircraft dropped and you momentarily forget what hope feels like. And most of what sight is like as well, due to the amount of light the big bomb emits outright burning your eyes the moment you open them.

You try to move an arm, a leg, anything, just to at least block out the light of the orb as it stands on the ground in the distance, unmoving. You vaguely wonder whether Winston could reach the top of the orb if he stood on his tippy toes.

You feel a tear roll down your cheek at the thought of Winston lying somewhere amongst you, counting the battle as a loss. You'd worked so hard! You'd worked so hard to win the battle, for him more than anyone. To make him proud.

Deep down, you know this is the proudest death Winston could dream of.

You block out the thought by focusing on the screech of the bomb.

Along with said screech, you hear the noise of a malfunctioning comm, and the corrupted echo of many voices. You close your eyes, focus on these voices and visualize brighter times.

It takes you a moment to realise all of the voices are saying the same word.

"Jack".

You open your eyes and force them to work, as muddled as they are and as bright as the the bomb in front seems to be. The ground, the sky - it all blends together into a mess of light and vague shadows. But there's one thing you see clear as day.

You see the silhouette of Jack, pushing the lightbomb forward. Then forward again.

You force your throat to yell out with the others as you remember the direction he's going in. The direction of the dome.

Your eyes burn and sting, but you keep them open.

The sight of Jack, pushing the lightbomb into the dome with his own hands burns into your eyes more than anything. The light dims as the glowing edge of the dome eats him up along with the orb.

Your eyes keep burning and stinging, but you force them open as you watch the lightball move further and further into the dome. As it edges closer to the centre, taking Jack with it.

The light flares, then quickly expands, the blue glow of the outer edge momentarily giving way to pure white.

The dome doesn't budge.

\--------

The omnic attackers don't return.

You assume that counts as a success, then. Looking around the room, you realise you aren't the only one not to feel entirely successful.

You're sitting in a makeshift infirmary that you were brought to, surrounded by healing agents in varying conditions.

You aren't sure how long you had laid near the dome, nothing but the continuous ringing in you ears to break the silence. You assume you passed out at some point, even if your ego is somewhat insulted by the thought.

You were brought here after viewers of D.Va's stream called out for help, as Angela tells you. By the time you think to question exactly how much of the battle said stream viewers saw, a news report on a screen in the back of the room answers the question for you.

You can't hear anything it's saying - you aren't sure whether this is due to the volume being turned down or the fact that your ears are still ringing, but it doesn't matter. You can see pretty clearly. The room is silent as a still from D.Va's stream takes up the screen.

Despite the lens flare caused by the lightbomb and the amount of dust in the shot, the silhouette of Jack pushing the bomb into the dome is very clear.

Your eyes burn. And it isn't due to lightbombs this time.

Despite the heavy aura surrounding the group, it seems as though there were no more casualties. You watch fellow agents come to their senses one by one, a barrage of emotions flashing on their faces.

You watch Mercy flit around the room, already in action despite having been unconscious hours ago. She keeps her face firm, long accustomed to the idea of being strong for others.

You see Pharah hold onto her and weeping after she awoke hours after most of you, her fall during the battle having knocked her out cold. You imagine hearing the outcome of the battle without having been there to witness it and you understand.

You think about Ana seeing the news back home and your eyes are burning all over again.

Even Reaper eventually wakes up, holding a near-corporeal shape with help from the combined healing efforts of many. He refuses to move or speak, sans the terse "fine" he throws out after Mercy repeatedly questions him on how he's feeling.

The amount of attention the battle receives surprises you. You see report after report analyse it in depth. Even when you close your eyes, growing increasingly tired of thinking about it, the untimely, but otherwise appreciated disappearance of the ringing keeps the thoughts going via the words of the reporters.

The response seems to be rather appreciative when it comes to Overwatch's efforts - you watch interviewers thoughtfully nod their heads as an Indian scientist of some sort explains the inner workings of the dome and the goal that the lightbombs had had. Symmetra seems to know the man, recognition flashing on her face as soon as her sights turn towards the screen.

You discover exactly how appreciative the public is when Mercy takes you along to meet some of the local population that has apparently been bringing gifts to show their gratitude.

"I know you'll grow stir-crazy otherwise, Lena. You need to stretch those legs of yours at least a little." she says, leading you through a hall and outside. You watch a kind, immaculately realistic smile grace Mercy's face before you leave the door and you follow suit, putting on a smile of your own. You can be strong, too.

You are not prepared for the amount of people that cheer for you the moment you exit the door. You feel your smile grow more genuine as you are bombarded with gifts and kind words. The amount of adoration in their eyes makes you feel like you may have made a difference this time, at the very least to these people. You may have changed their world.

You feel a tad undeserving of these people's gratitude when you remember the way the battle was ultimately decided.

"They aren't thanking just you, Lena," Mercy tells you when you voice these thoughts after returning to the infirmary. "they're thanking Overwatch in general. They don't see us as individuals anymore - they see you as Overwatch, they see me as Overwatch and they saw Jack as Overwatch. They're thanking all of us."

You see a small smile spread on Winston's face as he listens to your conversation from further behind Angela. You feel a tad more accomplished after that.

The image from D.Va's stream doesn't leave you for days after the event. You see it make appearances on every screen, spreading through traditional and social media alike.

You see it on posters plastered on occasional buildings in the city as you ready to leave back for base.

You see it in Ana's eyes as she embraces you when you return.

And you see it in your mind at the symbolic funeral that's put together after you get back in base (symbolic as there's no body left to bury). You keep your eyes on the small memorial plaque in the ground, as if to symbolise a grave.

Most of you don't cry. Your eyes have probably lost all ability to produce tears at this point.

You feel Amélie lean her head on your shoulder from her spot behind you as the ceremony ends. You take her hand in yours to make sure she knows you appreciate her support.

It's only when you feel moisture seep through the fabric on your shoulder do you realise you might not be the only one that needs support now. You turn to face Amélie.

"I barely knew him," she says, tears streaming down her face, expression blank. "I don't know why this is happening."

For once in your life, you decide against speaking. You wrap your arms around her in silent support. You discover your eyes can still produce tears after all.

Overwatch gains legality the next day.

You'd imagined the occasion being much happier in your mind. An occasion without the acute sense of emptiness you feel currently, at least.

Your legs feel much too heavy and constrained for someone working for a free, government-supported Overwatch. For the first time in a while, you question why you fight at all, if you're just gonna have to watch everyone die anyway.

You stop a few metres away from the grave on your next visit, as the sight of the kids already standing there catches your attention. You watch them extend their little palms out towards the grave.

"We still got hands, sir. We'll keep helping for you." the boy says.

A bittersweet smile graces your face as you walk up to them and extend your own hands.

You remember what you were fighting for again.

\--------

Eventually time starts moving at it's usual pace again.

You spend a great deal of it hanging around Winston's lab as you would before, enjoying the sight of Winston working with the signature spark of hope back in his eyes. You watch him work on speeches and reports for the council of world leaders with welcome focus replacing the desperation that had filled his visage a while ago.

You get used to talking to Athena or Anakh during times when Winston needs absolute focus. You watch Anakh fiddle with whatever they happen to be working on. You've noticed the way their eyes light up when they're in the lab as opposed to somewhere else.

"I like the freedom this kind of science gives." they shyly explain when you ask them why they're here instead of focusing only on hard-light. "It's not that my Vishkar studies weren't interesting, but there were a lot more precise requirements than this. Working here is a lot more experimental."

"Mhm, I bet Vishkar inventions never explode in your face, too. Not nearly as exciting." you giggle. There's a fond smile on Anakh's face.

"You'd be surprised." They respond.

Besides talking to the lab's usual population, you enjoy the return of various interferences in the form of people busting in through the door whenever they feel like they need something.

Even Reaper sneaks in sometimes, finding the lab an acceptable hiding place from a fiercely apologetic Reinhardt, who's been comically stalking Reaper in an attempt to apologize for the 'you should have stayed dead' comment he threw out back in India.

No matter how many time's he's successfully caught Reaper and how many long-winded apologies Reinhardt's gotten through by now, the guilt hasn't subsided yet. Which means Reaper has had to sneak around more than usual and, when occasionally caught, sit through apology speeches and strong hugs, grumbling all the way through. It's amazing noone's been shot yet, honestly. Not that that would do much to deter Reinhardt at this point.

You find it all hilarious, honestly.

However, the most notable presence to constantly hang around the lab's door is Symmetra, who paces around for weeks before finally coming up with the perfect way to phrase her request for permission to return to India in order to further pursue rebuilding work.

Lúcio teases her every time he sees her pacing about, but instantly offers to join her upon hearing the actual request she had been deliberating on.

Symmetra scrunches her nose when she hears this. Despite the fact that they now settle their disputes via intense dance-offs, their distaste of one another hasn't gone anywhere.

"Do you think they would end up exploding India if I sent Lúcio along with her?" Winston asks you one day, half-lying down on the table.

"Are you serious, love?"

He shrugs. "I'm confident in Symmetra and all, but I sort of want someone to keep an eye on her. To make sure she doesn't overwork the place. And Lúcio's been the only one to volunteer so far."

This is how you end up waving goodbye to a vaguely unnerved Symmetra, an optimistic Lúcio, an opportunistic Kyra and a regretful Anakh.

"There will be space in the lab for when you come back, rest assured." Winston tells Anakh, who can only nod, the slight childish pout on their face reminding you of their age.

"Don't worry, I'll bring them back soon," Lúcio promises. "we'll just stay until the girls settle in."

"I'd rather you had settled somewhere else," Symmetra mumbles.

"I'd rather you had settled your conflicts like mature adults." Winston mumbles loud enough for Symmetra to hear. She looks slightly ashamed of being called out. You can't help but giggle at her expression.

A sense of pride wells up in you and you smile brightly as you wish them good luck.

\--------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops sometimes.

You skip the greeting salute, that ritual long forgotten by now. You instead opt for spending a couple moments watching her in action. You watch her flit gracefully from one roof to another as she finishes off a persistent enemy agent who'd followed her up the building.

You see her scan the area with her eyes as the enemy falls from the rooftop. You give her a cheeky little wave as her eyes reach your spot.

You tense in place when she suddenly points her rifle your way. This feels familiar, you think as a shot rings out.

You hear a person cry out and see a guy keel over and drop his weapon as you turn to look behind you.

"Pay attention, chérie." A smooth, velvety and very smug voice rings out through the comm. You turn back to her and shrug.

"I was paying attention to what's really important here, love."

She lets out a little laugh and you're already counting this entire mission as a personal victory, to be honest.

You blink yourself closer to the building she's on when you spot more people coming her way. You're not missing a chance to fight alongside her, no matter how routine this is by now. it never gets old, really.

You feel a smile on your face as you fight through the masses, the sounds of gunfire not loud enough to muffle the occasional back and forth you keep up through the comm.

"I kinda miss the times when you never had your comm on," D.Va's voice pipes up. "I feel like I'm interrupting a date every time you guys do this."

"I don't miss those times at all," Pharah replies. "Finding Tracer when you needed her was a nightmare. Speaking of that..." she says, before rattling out an order like the distinguished leader she's become. You vaguely remember her doubting her leadership way back in Korea and you can't help a small smile.

You wave goodbye to Amélie as you run off into the streets, slightly regretful to break off your little dance.

It's alright, really. You'll see her on many more rooftops as time goes on.

Even some less expected ones.

You watch her silhouette stand around on the roof of the base a few weeks later. You sit there for a little while before opening the window of your room and poking your head out.

"What are you doing out there, love? I thought brooding menacingly on rooftops was Reaper's thing."

That seems to break her odd trance of looking off into the distance, as she glances over to you for a moment.

"I guess you gain some of the man's traits after constantly having to be around him for a few years." she says.

"Hopefully not his fashion sense, at least." you respond. "It's a mighty cold night for standing around though. You feel like coming inside yet, love? I'll go make some cocoa if you'd like."

An odd look passes through her face as she keeps silently looking off into the distance for a while. "...I'd like that." she finally says.

You need no further instruction - you start walking towards the kitchen as soon as she climbs in through the window and closes it, sealing in the warmth of the room.

You weren't lying about if being a cold day - it's been an especially cold winter this year. Mei's been ecstatic about it, some others less so. You have been more or less fine, having grown used to piling multiple layers of sweaters onto yourself, be it to combat the cold or the visibility of the chronal accelerator on your chest.

You've been even better off since you discovered Amélie's apparent love of knitting. Your warmth is now assured by both the fibers that make up your sweaters and the love that was put into making them. Even Mei's blizzard wouldn't stand a chance against you now.

You like to watch her knit - there's a certain serenity that surrounds her as she systematically goes through row after row. It makes time seem slower and calmer somehow, which isn't something one would expect you to be fond of, but you happen to quite like it.

You aren't the only person at base to appreciate her talents either, you're reminded as you walk past McCree on your way back from the kitchen. The nice knitted serape that's wrapped around his shoulders shifts as he moves to wave at you.

He got the serape as his secret santa gift this year and he's been wearing it ever since. "Well, I was skeptical at first, but I'm pretty sure this here's the warmest thing I own now." he says when you question him.

You smile at the thought. The smile persists as you reenter your room, two cups of cocoa in hand. You opt not to ask her about how her mission went yet when you see her face - expectedly blank, but there's a sad tint to the look in her eyes.

"What's on your mind, love?" you ask as you hand her one of the cups.

"Nothing special." she says, then sighs when you raise an eyebrow at her. "I guess I've just been... somewhat torn about my purpose here. I don't know whether I belong."

"You do, Amélie. We all love having you here. Me especially."

"I know that, but..." she pauses, taking a sip of her cocoa. "I do not know exactly who I am. and I know I don't have to be the old Amélie or Talon's Widowmaker anymore, but with both of those personalities screaming out against being here in Overwatch it can get troubling at times."

"I know exactly who you are though." you say before tasting the cocoa yourself. It's warm. "You're my Amélie, and I'll love whoever you shape up to be. Therefore, you belong in my heart. And that's right here, see?" you point at your chest. "And, you know. Home is where the heart is, or something."

She snorts. "Eloquently put."

"Oh, shush. Speaking is one of my greatest talents, rest assured. Right next to making cocoa."

She shrugs, glancing down at the cup. "I've had better."

"Hey!" you whine theatrically. The return of sarcasm and snark in her speech means her mood's been lightened at least somewhat. Good. That's what you're here for. "Also, when it comes to bad memories of Overwatch giving you doubts," you go back to the previous topic. " you can be sure you aren't alone in that. Reaper still hangs around, doesn't he?"

Amélie thinks for a moment. "I guess he does."

"Then if there's any trait you should gain from hanging around him for years, as you said, it's probably exactly that -the ability to stay here despite past problems." you shrug. "That's definitely better than gaining his attitude. Or his fashion sense."

She lets out a small laugh. "I'll keep that in mind."

You lay your head on her shoulder, careful to not drop your cup.

Despite the enormous expanse of time and space available to you, you're sure that this spot right here, curled up next to Amélie with a cup of cocoa in your hands, is exactly where you belong.

\--------

As you run through the halls of the base with the usual spring in your step, time itself seems to accelerate its rhythm in an attempt to keep up with you, speeding up with every day that goes by.

Even moments when you stop to take in the general hijinks of the base seem to go by quicker than before. The base is livelier than ever, with the addition of new inhabitants in the form of occasional new recruits and the addition of more kids.

You had just barely gotten used to seeing Pharah and Mercy's second child, a sweet little girl with bright eyes and one of the loudest voices you've ever heard (even rivaling Reinhardt's. It's safe to say he adores the girl.), when their third child becomes an inhabitant of the base as well.

They introduce the tiny lil guy to you as Jack, and you manage to stop the stab of sadness from disrupting your smile.

You make sure to welcome each new addition to the base personally with a bright smile. This includes the kiddos and the new recruits, many of whom happen to be just on the border of being kiddos themselves.

You're delighted when you notice some of the new inhabitants being familliar faces, including the Petras boy you'd met during your time in Russia and Reinhadt's old companion Brigitte, who'd left early on after recall to pursue a project of some sort (she promised she'd tell you later. You're holding her to that).

You see their faces, grown up and matured, and you realise you'll be here to see all of these little guys that speed through the halls at speeds sometimes rivaling your own grow up into their own personalities as well. You can't help but smile at the thought of seeing the growth of lil Chizuru, who's already nearly twice the size she had been at the beginning.

You've noticed the girl's personality coming trough already, really. She seems to be much quieter than you'd expect any child raised be Junkrat to be, but she certainly has taken on his love for chemistry and mechanics, even if it isn't always bomb related. You see her occasionally visiting Winston's lab, quietly tinkering with some idea or another.

She also seems to have a clear love for plants - you see her eyes light up every time she visits Bastion's little balcony garden or the times when she gets Mei to explain various bits of plant sciences to her. You've sworn not to tell Roadhog about her friendship with Bastion, but you're sure he's got his suspicions as he watches the scrap pile in the junkers' room gradually shapeshift into a collection of flowerpots.

When it comes to Roadhog himself, you've noticed that as your workload speeds up, his seems to be slowing down. You bring it up to Mercy once and see her face freeze up.

"Well, it's..." She starts, tone hesitant. "His health has been deteriorating throughout the last while. Winston and I have been lessening his workload since he collapsed mid mission a few months ago."

It's your turn to freeze up. You didn't know about this. You'd noticed him coughing more often, but you'd assumed it to be a remnant of the damage he sustained back at the omnium battle. It takes you a moment to realise it's been nearly two years since that now - a little too long for a healing process like that.

"We've been thinking of moving them out into this little nearby bungalow to at least give him some breathing room. It is a little hectic around here." Mercy goes on."I certainly don't want to force retirement on anyone, but I can't help worrying..."

You sit and think for a while. Time doesn't slow down to wait for you to finish your thoughts anymore.

It doesn't come as a surprise to see the junkers move out of the base a few months later.

What does come as kind of a surprise is the fact that the chaos level in the base doesn't decrease much. This may be due to the fact that the junkers still spend a good deal of time here - Junkrat being sent around on missions and Roadhog visiting for regular check-ups at Mercy's, Cheese coming along nearly every time.

It may also be just due to the nature of Overwatch, you think as you watch the base bustle with life.

You smile. As long as you're around, the liveliness isn't going anywhere soon.

\--------

If there was one day of the year that perfectly illustrates the growth of Overwatch in the past few years, the anniversary of the recall is definitely the obvious choice. What once started as a casual visit to the beach has grown exponentially as the organisation became larger.

By now it's basically become an expansive beach party, complete with food, a dance floor and even a symbolic award ceremony to celebrate the year's achievements.

(This year you won the title of "biggest fail" for your wonderful achievement of running into a glass wall at full speed, recalling yourself back and then instantaneously running back into the same wall during a mission. That mission was a near failure as everyone who'd witnessed the event couldn't stop laughing for the rest of it. Luckily, that included the enemy.)

"It's incredible how this all started on a whim," Mei says from her spot beside you at the refreshment table.

"It is." Winston replies. The distant smile on his face tells you he probably understood the statement more widely than Mei had intended.

You can't help the grin from staying on your face throughout the evening - having the entirety of Overwatch here, including friends you haven't seen in a while, just makes you incredibly giddy.

The smile stays on your face even as the moon rises and Lúcio's beats die down (and what incredible beats they are. You'd heard that Lúcio has been working on a playlist for today through the whole year but now you're really sure of it).

You find yourself wading knee deep into the sea as the festivities die down, wanting to feel the cool waves on your feet for a little longer.

You spot Winston wading into the water right next to you and you realise you aren't the only one trying to elongate the day.

You stand there in comfortable silence for a while, taking in the sight of the sea and the sky, trying your best to commit it all to memory. The light of the full moon rivals the light of your chronal accelerator today.

"The moon looks quite lovely from here, doesn't it?" you say.

"Right here looks quite lovely from the moon, as well." Winston replies after a little while.

You've seen the expression on Winston's face when he retells his time in the moon colony. It's a soft, nostalgic fondness that very quickly gives way to sadness when he remembers the circumstances leading up to his departure from the place.

"You know, love, Overwatch has grown a whole lot over the past little while," you say. "it might just be the time to start thinking of missions to space."

Winston lets out a little laugh, then spends another moment admiring the moon before shaking his head.

"We still have a lot to do here on Earth, first."

You nod and say nothing more, fully knowing you'd blast off into space the moment he gave word. You'd bring down the sun if the ape asked, honestly.

You spend another moment trying to memorise every star in the sky, every wave of the sea before turning around and making your way back to shore. You kick up a nice splash over at Winston and run the rest rest of the way, laughing as you go along.

Today was a good day.

You hope for a million more like it.

\--------

Despite the speed at which you tend to go through your days, you do spare a moment or two to listen to the news - you've got to know what's happening in the world if you want to change it.

And a lot happens, as time goes on.

The Shimada clan, having gained a large amount of power via Vishkar tech, have gained a lot of political power in Japan, and the occasional reports that pop up on this subject worry a good percentage of Overwatch agents. This definitely includes Winston, who sends a team or two there once in a while to keep an eye on things.

You don't get to be on those teams due to how unfit for stealth you happen to be. You don't blame Winston for making that decision - as talented as you are, you prefer to be seen and noticed rather than hidden away in the shadows. The light of the accelerator makes most shadows obsolete either way.

Talon activity rises dramatically after being very limited for a few years, reminding you that your fight still isn't done, even after all these years.

Amélie seems to take the Talon front very seriously, fighting them down with unexpected determination.

"Even if I am not past Amélie, nor Talon's Widowmaker, I figured it would be good to give them peace of sorts. The old Overwatch is gone - that means it is Talon's turn to disappear now."

You smile when you see motivation burning in her eyes. She's working with purpose now.

The growth of Talon attacks is likely closely connected to the expansion of the Omnic rights movement. With undoubtable proof being presented to support the god-program theory on the attacks, the omnic community has been working to separate themselves from the violent connotations.

Great strides have been made over the years - you realise onmic acceptance in society is at an all-time high as far as you remember. The world is becoming more inclusive to its omnic population, even in places where omnics have been looked down upon before.

It's far from absolute acceptance, but steps are being taken towards that and you can't help but smile about it.

The fact that Overwatch is a pro-omnic organisation is clear, which leads to the subject coming up at various public appearances. D.Va, who is likely the most media-entwined member of your organisation, gets invited to a discussion on this subject as a representative of Overwatch one day.

You and Winston keep your eyes strictly locked onto the screen that day. As you keep your eyes on the show, you hear some other agents moving around nearby, including the sound of Zenyatta's orbs floating about.

"...Obviously the stigma's still there," Hana's voice rings through the speakers. "the fact that you invited me to speak here instead of one of our omnic agents shows that pretty clearly, don't you think?"

You think about that for the rest of the evening, realising you'll definitely be around to see full omnic acceptance someday.

You also realise nothing's stopping you from making that day come sooner.

\--------

The fact that you haven't been to the Junkers' home until now is honestly a little surprising. Perhaps you'd just assumed it would have exploded by now.

Facts are facts though: is the house hasn't blown up, it seems to be in good shape, and you're here to celebrate Chizuru's thirteenth birthday.

Despite having never been to their little house, you've seen Cheese a whole lot over the years. She's a constant presence at the base, whether she's there for studying ( besides school, she spends a good amount of time learning various sciences from Mei and, surprisingly, Mercy.) or just as a general visit.

She's retained her love for flora, as you can tell from the rather impressive garden that surrounds the house. What's most impressive is probably the fact that it hasn't burned down yet, knowing Junkrat lives here.

She's also apparently combined her love for flora with her interest in chemistry, as you realise when Ana (who is apparently very familiar with the house, having visited it often by now) shows you Chizuru's room, which seems to have vials upon vials of various plant extracts as well as a whole desk dedicated to various chemistry equipment.

It's also clear from the intensely floral smell that envelops the whole house, nearly strong enough to completely override the Junkers' usual gunpowder aroma.

"She makes essential oils, incenses, remedies. That sort of thing." Mercy explains upon seeing your curiosity. "She didn't take well to learning about Roadhog's usual method of healing the coughing."

"Let me get this straight." you hear Torbjörn say as he turns to Junkrat. "You spend most of your life blowing things up, wreaking havoc and all. Then you kidnap a child, raise her, and she somehow turns out to be a pharmacist." you watch him raise his hands in the air for effect. "An aromatherapist! How the hell..."

He goes on ranting in disbelief as he walks out of the room, occasionally moving his hands around.

Junkrat looks at him, then at you in confusion. "The hell's his problem?"

You shrug, not sure there's an appropriate response in this situation.

"His problem is that he is far too stinky too comprehend the idea of flowery aromas," Reinhardt says between giggles, suddenly poking his head into the room. Never mind, you guess there _is_ an appropriate response in this situation.

A faint "I heard that!" rings out in the distance and Reinhardt's giggle grows into a mighty guffaw before he runs out of the room, presumably to continue heckling the swede.

Some things never change, you guess.

You take a moment to walk around the garden, looking around at the various flowers. The intensely flowery aroma sticks around here, too.

You hear Bastion's happy beeping as they move around the garden, occasionally tapping your shoulder when they find a particularly nice plant to show you. They seem to be in their element.

At some point you notice them approaching Torbjörn when the swede enters the garden. You smile as you watch Torbjörn nod along to Bastion's cheerful booping as they show off various plants. You wonder whether Torbjörn understands what Bastion is saying better or worse than others.

Despite all the grumbling on the omnic subject Torbjörn's done over the years, at some point Bastion seems to have befriended him. Even with his known distaste towards some omnics, he's been oddly protective of Bastion over the years. You aren't all that surprised - Bastion has an inherent sweetness to them that makes you incredibly confused as to how someone could hate them at all.

"They helped start the garden a long while back," Chizuru says, suddenly appearing beside you. "I always sort of took inspiration from their balcony. Could never attract as many birds though. Dad's bombs are too loud."

"I'm surprised how few of these seem to have any scorch marks on them, knowing the way he is." you shrug.

Cheese giggles. "He likes flowers, actually."

The more you learn about Junkrat, the more you are convinced you don't know him at all, honestly. You watch him quietly look at the flowers for a while before squatting down next to him.

"Didn't see you as the type to enjoy flowers, love." you say. "At least not ones that aren't on fire."

"Naw, mate, they're pretty nice. Like little tiny fireworks, except they stay around longer." he responds. "Smell real nice, too. Didn't get these in the Outback."

You leave the conversation at that, but the conversation doesn't seem to leave you.

Even as you watch the firework display Junkrat's put together later in the evening, your head runs through thoughts at the signature speed of Tracer.

Everyone here, from Roadhog's calm silhouette at the other side of the field to the warm presence of Amélie beside you, is kind of similar to fireworks in a way. Bright, awe-inspiring, yet so short-lived - leaving you behind, like a small little flower on a field. A small, longetive firework.

You don't like metaphors.

You shake off the thought, smiling as the bright light of the fireworks makes you momentarily forget the significance of the light emitting from your chest.

\--------

You're standing in the same street you do every year, listening to the murmur of the crowd as people and omnics alike gather to the annual Mondatta memorial. You don't remember how many years it's been - you've never been one for numbers, anyhow.

What you do remember is literally every corner of this street, every little detail on the surrounding buildings. You remember standing here many times - sometimes alone, other times not, sometimes heavily covered in layers of disguise, other times less so.

You haven't been alone or disguised here in quite a few years now. On your right you can hear the content beeps and accompanying bird noises that signal the presence of Bastion. They've come here with you here every since that time they snuck out here with you, a nice scarf draped on their shoulders. They've amassed quite the collection of these scarves by now - this one in particular was made by Amélie, actually.

Speaking of Amélie, that's exactly who is standing at your left side. She's grown used to you dragging her here every year, although she was reluctant at first.

"This place looks very different from a lower standpoint." She'd said the first year, looking around at the rooftops. "For a place that's seen multiple assassination attempts it is surprisingly crowded."

She wasn't wrong about the crowds - the number of attendees seems to grow much larger each year. You aren't sure these streets were to hold this many visitors at once.

The chattering of the crowd becomes quieter as the anticipation for the speeches grows. You're excited - you always are, but this year even more so. You happen to know one of the speakers quite well this time, after all.

You can't help the bright smile on your face as Zenyatta speaks.

"...Mondatta was a great inspiration to us all and though he moved on more than a decade ago, his influence on the world remains." he says.

Zenyatta himself has become a great influence to some, as a little group of students has sprouted over the years. You spotted them in the crowd earlier, along with a number of other Overwatch affiliates, but you're too focused to look for them now.

"However, honouring the memory of Mondatta is not the only reason we continue to gather here each year. We come together to commemorate our progress towards harmony and the countless souls that have made it possible."

Progress has been made - you come here each year to see the expanse of the crowd just as much as the event itself, really.

"And though we stand here as one big entity, a crowd of like-minded beings, let us remember and embrace how different we all are. As there is harmony in chaos, our differences allow us to continue to move towards our goals, as we show that no matter how incomparable we may seem, the connections we form with one another are strong. Strong enough to see us through to an even brighter tomorrow, an even bigger crowd here next year. "

You feel the mechanical warmth of Bastion's hand enveloping yours. You use your other hand to hold Amélie's and you feel warm. Warm and strong.

"These personal bonds are the key to unity, my friends, and it is through them that change is born."

You remember holding this same mechanical hand, facing an expectant crowd in this same location. You instinctively raise both of your hands up, still entwined with the other two.

You smile when you see similarly entwined hands rising from all over the crowd.

"Therefore I ask you to ignore the height this podium adds and look at me not as an authority of any kind, but as a personal friend, and I shall see you all as friends in turn. I certainly possess enough hands to hold all the ones that remain unheld at this time, after all."

Your hands feel warm long after you leave the memorial that day.

\--------

Even though you haven't needed to deliver morning reports to Jack for a long while now, you still habitually keep yourself in the know of whether Reaper is at base or not.

His habits haven't changed much over the years - he's still edgy, still broods, still disappears every once in a while when he gets too stir-crazy. Keeps his room tidy to a point where it seems devoid of life at times (arguably, it kind of is). Still never present at dinner.

The sight of Reaper doing domestic things never gets any less comical though.

You walk into a room only to see him sitting on the floor, building Lego-whatevers with the kids one day and you laugh so hard it hurts. You come back into the room after you've calmed down somewhat. You can feel him glaring at you as you sit down and grab a couple bricks.

"How'd you rope him into this, loves?" you ask, the grin on your face contrasting whatever grimace Reaper's probably making at the moment.

"Blackmail." he grumbles.

"That's the only kind of mail you could expect wearing an ensemble like that, Mr Tall, Dark and Spooky." you look around at the little brick creations. You stifle a giggle as you feel Reaper staring at you even as he resumes building. "What are you making there?"

"He's making me a gun," Pharah and Mercy's youngest - Jack - pipes up from beside Reaper.

"I'm making him a gun." he confirms, deadpan.

"He makes the best guns!" the boy says, a big smile on his face.

"He very well should, what with how many of them he wastes on a daily basis." you add.

You watch him hand over the finished product to the boy, who lets out a little whoop of joy. He barely gets to try to stand up before little Jack speaks up again.

"Can you make one for my sis too? Please?" he says, pointing to said sister beside him. "We're gonna duel."

Reaper makes a weird grumbly noise and sits back down. "You better win then."

You snort. You were planning to later question what sort of sorcery the boy used to make the edgelord build Legos for him, but now you realise he simply asked. He can't bear making a Jack sad even now, can he.

You listen to Reaper's occasional jabs at your Lego skills (which may be slightly lacking, to be fair) and a vague sense of nostalgia hits you as you remember having a similar conversation with 76.

You wonder which one of them was better at Legos. You never really got to find out.

He finishes building the gun, declines your usual offer for coffee and disappears.

And that there's an accurate summary of your interactions with Reaper - short talk, declined coffee, sudden disappearance. You think that's the way he likes things - not being bothered seems to be a consistent goal of his, just as it always has been.

You don't comment when you watch him take the same road to the same humble memorial every once in a while and you don't get in his way when he comes back a good hour later, mask hiding any possible emotion from the world around him.

You've noticed that people tend to avoid the Jack subject around him. You suppose he prefers it that way.

You're absentmindedly watching him take the same road to the same grave through your window one day. You tense as you watch Chizuru intercept his path with a bouquet in her hands.

You pry your window slightly open and focus on listening.

"... and my memory of him is very clouded but he was important. He was kinda like a grandpa figure, I guess..."

He takes the bouquet from Cheese's hands.

"He loved you, kid."

"He loved you, too."

"He shouldn't have." he says before turning around and walking off.

Neither you nor Cheese intercept his path when he comes home a while later, sans bouquet.

You do ask Cheese for a flower or two next time you visit the grave yourself.

You walk down the little path, stopping yourself suddenly when you see a shadowy figure already standing by the little plaque.

You weren't expecting to see Reaper here. You can't remember the last time you saw him at base, honestly.

You soften your steps, hiding yourself behind some shrubbery a good bit away from the grave. You don't want to interrupt. You'll wait until he leaves - you've got all the time in the world, after all.

There's no sound of movement. You check once in a while, poking your head out only to see Reaper still standing there, unmoving. You're beginning to think he might be a mannequin when a voice suddenly interrupts your thought process.

"I've never met anyone worse at stealth than you, Tracer. And I've seen some godawful recruits." Reaper says, turning towards you. So much for waiting it out, then.

"Jack used to scold me about that all the time." you respond as you get out of your hiding spot and walk over to him.

"And you still haven't improved. You're almost as good at listening to Jack as I was."

Gabriel Reyes is a bitter man, you remember. You try your best to arrange the flowers Chizuru gave you into some semblance of a bouquet - your attempt at stealth might have set back Cheese's efforts a good bit.

"I'm not so sure of that, love. Just statistically speaking, you probably heard a lot more of what he had to say than I did."

"Yeah, and I statistically ignored more of it too. That's why he ended up dying again before we could sort anything out."

You remember having a similar conversation with Jack before you left for India. "Stubborn old men," you mutter, still fumbling with the bouquet.

"And now I get to bitch at a plaque for it. Of course he'd leave no body behind, lest I try to talk some sense into it." he says, voice oddly not as angry as the words it speaks.

You try your best not to drop any flowers in your efforts. You succeed, at the cost of breaking a stem or two.

"I didn't even get to take his soul with me."

You place the flowers beside the plaque, careful not to break any more of them. You instinctively extend your palms out towards the grave. You still have hands, you're still fighting.

"...What is that?" Reaper questions you. "The kids do that every time they're brought here."

"It's from a conversation we had with him once." you explain. "We still have hands, therefore we can still fight for him, basically."

"That's stupid." he says, but lets you extend his palms towards the grave without fighting back.

\--------

As Amélie grows more and more in tune with herself, you make sure you're there to learn as much about her as possible. You never tire of discovering new things about her, honestly.

Learning little details is a given - you remember the way she likes her coffee, you can usually pretty safely predict her order at most restaurants (and then horribly mispronounce it as you try to impress her). You know what kind of flowers she likes, what season they bloom (and the fact that Chizuru always keeps a couple on reserve for you). You know she likes to sleep in on the occasional free day, muttering as she attempts to pull you back into bed when you try to go through your 6 a.m. routine. Athena has to occasionally take over wake-up calls for you when the temptation is too strong.

You've even made an effort to learn French, if just to understand more of her. You're a little proud of your progress so far - you manage to pick out a good bit of what she says now, as opposed to the pure confusion you'd felt anytime the language had come up before. Judging from the faces she makes when you speak, however, you assume your pronunciation may still need a bit of work.

"Puis-je t'embarasser?" you ask Amélie one day, your arms wrapped around her from the impromptu dance you'd been performing until then.

You feel a little less smooth when you hear her let out a small snort in response. She rolls her eyes.

"Tu le fais tous les jours, chérie." she responds. She's not wrong, but you're still confused. She shakes her head, a small smile on her face. "Em-brass-er. Tu pensais a 'embrasser', chérie. C'est quelque chose que tu fais mieux que la prononciation, du moins."

"Je fais de mon mieux." you respond, adding a small shrug for good measure.

You receive a kiss anyway. You'll make sure to remember the word correctly next time, that's for sure.

But larger bits of information surface themselves, as well - despite insisting she's a new Amélie, she starts reconciling with her old selves - you hear a lot more of the old Amélie Lacroix, you see a lot more Widowmaker.

Talon's Widowmaker makes her appearance in missions - the precise movements, sharp words and ruthlessness come out once in a while. You wonder whether Talon's beating themselves up for having to fight what they helped create.

You've heard what it was like there. You hope she gives them hell.

Judging from the determination in her eyes and the way she jumps at every Talon mission, she will.

The old Amélie Lacroix comes out in idle conversations - casual mentions of memories, childhood dreams, descriptions of her home town. Her time with Overwatch. The expression on her face seems to shift from sorrow to fondness as she puts more and more of her past into words.

And with the rebirth of Amélie Lacroix, the memory of Gérard Lacroix comes up more and more often as well.

It starts with the little things, as it often does - 'Gérard liked this and that', 'Gérard lived here once or twice', but it does go to more substantial territory occasionally - 'Gérard wouldn't do this, chérie'.

You watch her fondly discuss Gérard with Mercy one day and you feel oddly torn. On one hand, you should be delighted seeing Amélie comfortable enough with herself to talk about her past with someone else.

On the other hand, you're starting to wonder how stellar of a guy Gérard must have been to be that memorable, to a point where he comes up every day now.

"Are you jealous, chérie?" Amélie asks you one day, after seeing the uncertain look on your face.

"No," you immediately reply, not even thinking about it.

Amélie laughs, taking your hand in hers.

"Don't pout." she says. You aren't pouting, nope. "It's alright to be slightly jealous. Anyone you find after my death will likely have to deal with you reminiscing of me this way. Retribution in advance, chérie."

"That's not happening," you instantly bark back. It takes you a moment to realise you were denying her death more than the possibility of finding someone after her.

Calculations suddenly fill your brain. You count years, days, minutes. Her date of birth, average life expectancy.

Your vision shakes with every tick-tock of the clock on the wall.

You never realised how limited your time with her is.

She squeezes your hand in reassurance, snapping you out of your thoughts. The tick-tock of your inner clock doesn't slow.

"You have nothing to worry about, chérie," she says, not knowing how wrong she is at this moment. You have no time to worry, you realise. "Gérard was important to me back then, but you are irreplaceable now."

So is she, you think. Your inner clock doesn't quiet itself one bit. Tick, tock, tick, tock.

"You made me whole again, Lena." Amélie says, voice soft. "I stood before you, a divided, violent mess and you held my hand as I put myself back together, even when I kicked and screamed at the idea."

You lean into her as she speaks and concentrate on her voice.

"The old Amélie and Widowmaker are at peace. I am your Amélie now, remember?" she smiles.

You give her a regrettably unconfident smile. She sounds accomplished, and you're so proud of her. You're so, so, so proud of her. You always will be.

You just wish she didn't make it sound as if her mission on Earth is entirely complete now.

"You haven't destroyed Talon yet," you say, grasping onto any straw that might possibly keep your grip on her last longer. Forever, if you could.

"Yes, well," she responds. "I'm hoping you'll hold my hand through that as well."

Her words warm your heart the same way her hand warms yours, and you're well aware of the happiness you should be feeling now. And you are happy.

You just wish her words sounded less like a goodbye to your mind.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

You close your eyes and feel time loom over you. A small memory sticks out in the cesspool of time-related thoughts.

"You mind if I do something real quick, love?" you ask.

"Not at all."

You take a deep breath and recall yourself back.

You pry open an eye after a moment - Amélie's still there, you're still there, everything is in place. Nothing's changed.

You take another breath and blink yourself forwards.

Nothing's changed.

You let out the breath as a sense of relief fills you. You're alright - you're still here in this moment. Time hasn't taken you away. It hasn't taken her away.

The ticking grows quiet.

"What was that?" Amélie asks, genuinely curious.

"Nothing, love." you say, a small smile on your face. "I was just making sure i'm still here with you."

"Of course you are, chérie." she replies, voice fond. "You will always be here."

You hate how right she is.

The blue glow of your chronal accelerator shines on, uninterrupted.

\--------

You're known for being fast. You always have been, and you likely always will be - your legs don't slow one bit as the years go on.

But even you find yourself unable to catch up to time as it accelerates more and more each day.

You watch days go by in a blink - people moving about, the base changing as it goes, the vivid buzz of the building more dense and rhythmic than ever, and you feel yourself wishing for everthing to slow down.

You don't feel like running. You can't keep up anymore.

You suck it up and run anyway. The world needs you to, you assure yourself.

You are more acutely aware of the bright glare of the clocks around base than ever before. It's as if they mock you - your feeble blue light nowhere near matching the bright LED glare of time as it whizzes past you.

You close your eyes when things get too hectic. You recall yourself back.

Nothing changes.

You blink yourself forward.

Nothing changes.

You run along as usual, confident you're rooted in the same place. The same time.

The speed of time really catches up to you once you stop and realise Mercy and Pharah's little group of rascals is twice as tall as you remember them being. You watch them fumble through adolescence and their teenage years, reluctant to close your eyes even for a blink in fear of the kiddos being elderly by the time you open them again.

You smile as little Jack runs past you into Winston's office, nearly a full head taller than you now. You open your mouth to wish him a good first mission before you realise it isn't his first by a long shot. You do that every time.

You blink yourself forward, then recall yourself back. Nothing changes.

You find yourself in the kitchen one day, reminiscing as you help Mei prepare a stew.

You're grateful for the slow pace and normalcy dinner preparations give you. You smile as you listen to the rhythmic tap tap tap of vegetables being cut and you ignore the fact that it eventually syncs up to the ticking of your inner clock.

It's a quiet day at base. You appreciate the silence now - it makes it seem as though time has stopped. You smile and take a deep breath - not to calm yourself, but rather take in the aroma of a familiar recipe mid-cooking process.

You blink yourself forward, then recall yourself back. Nothing changes.

The first time Anakh takes over the chronal accelerator check-up instead of Winston, you feel as though time has straight-up slapped you in the face with change and forced you to deal with it.

"They need to learn," Winston explains. "I won't be around as long as the accelerator will."

You focus on watching the concentration on Anakh's face instead of that statement. Anakh has changed quite a bit - they've grown into a promising scientist now. They're a good choice of protégé for Winston, you think.

"Have you ever been to the moon, love?" you ask them, your signature blue light illuminating their face.

"No." they reply, a shy smile on their face. Even with the confidence they've gained over the years, many of their emotions still come across as subdued and careful. "Hopefully someday."

"Someday soon." you add.

There's a sweet smile on Winston's face as he listens to your conversation from the other side of the room.

You go through the standard testing procedure after the check-up is done - you blink yourself forward,then recall yourself back. Nothing changes.

Amélie mercilessly teases you when you cover up the clocks in your room with thick fabric, but you can't help but notice the concern in her face. Just as you can't help but feel the bright, red glare of the digital clock on your desk. You pile another layer of fabric onto it.

You wake up every morning precisely at six a.m. You wish you didn't know that.

Every day is a great day to change the world. But you aren't sure how much you want that anymore.

\--------

Time doesn't slow its pace no matter how much you plead. You struggle not to get left behind - you'd rather not spend your forever lost alone in the past.

And so you run along - through missions, through base, through the world. Everything goes by you in a blur - the places, the people, everything.

You try to drag out your time with Amélie whenever you can without getting in her way. A stab of sadness goes through you every time you see her out to her usual Talon chases, regretful that you can't follow her on every one of these.

You see the determination in her eyes and you wonder how Talon's held their own for so long with Amélie's calculated wrath consistently at their tail. You let her do what she must - you wouldn't want to challenge said wrath, even if you'd like more time with her.

You know she'll be back in a blink either way, at the speed life's been going so far.

And it continues like so. Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Until you're woken up at precisely 3 a.m. by Mei entering your room in a panic.

"Amélie was shot down," she manages to voice, the hoarseness of her voice fighting every syllable. "It was a clear shot and nobody could... They couldn't get to her in time..."

Time stops there and then.

"They just brought her back here," Mei continues. You think she might have put her arms around you, but you can't tell. You can't feel. "Mercy's been trying but she said there's nothing she can do..."

No. It's too soon.

You're already mid sprint towards the infirmary when you realise you might have pushed Mei a bit strongly when you suddenly sprung to action. The regret that would normally show up in a situation like that is entirely drowned out by the fear and pain that seize your entire being.

You cling to the tiniest sliver of hope within the fear.

That sliver of hope goes out the moment Mercy looks at you with eyes that scream 'I'm sorry'.

You see a familiar silhouette lay pale in an infirmary bed behind the doctor. Everything in the room is still as you approach the bed.

No. Not yet.

Her hand is cold.

You sink to the floor. You scream, but the world does not respond.

The clock on the wall reads 3:12.

You recall yourself back. Nothing changes.

You recall yourself back. Nothing changes.

You do it again. And again. Then once more.

Maybe if you did it enough you can recall yourself back to a different time. A time when Amélie was still with you and alive and warm.

You recall yourself back. Nothing changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the faulty French, I'm not exactly fluent.  
> Puis-je t'embarasser? - Can I embarass you? (She mixed it up with embrasser, which means kiss)  
> Tu le fais tous les jours, chérie. - You do that every day, dear.  
> Tu pensais a 'embrasser', chérie. C'est quelque chose que tu fais mieux que la prononciation, du moins. - You were thinking of 'kiss', dear. That's something you do better than pronunciation, at least.  
> Je fais de mon mieux. - I do my best.


	5. Chapter 5

It's 8 a.m.

It's 9:45.

It's midday.

The fact that time stays linear doesn't make the week following Amélie's death feel any more real.

You see others hover around you, sympathetic faces, hugs, a reassuring hand on your back the majority of the time.

You can't feel any of it.

It all phases through you the same way you remember your own hand phasing through a doorknob decades ago.

Winston can't fix you this time, though.

You don't know how many days pass until you find yourself standing at her funeral, her silhouette gracing your sights one last time, elegant even in death.

It's too soon. There's so much you didn't get to learn about her.

You can't even remember the last thing she'd said to you. You can make an educated guess, and deep inside you know what it was, but you can't remember it.

You vaguely feel the presence of Ana beside you as the procession goes on.

"Let her go" she told you once, a long time ago. You didn't do it then and you can't do it now.

A treacherous part of your mind wonders how long it'll be before you're standing at Ana's funeral. At everyone else's funeral.

How long before everyone leaves you.

Your legs are sluggish and slow as you walk back into base.

It's 8 p.m.

It's 3 in the morning.

It's 6 a.m.

It's 6 a.m. and you stay in bed, despite a voice inside you urging you to get up.

The voice gets louder and more stable as days go on. You don't listen to it. You can't get everyone's spirits up if your own spirits are weak.

You stay in bed. It's cold and empty. The whole room is cold and empty.

The world is, too.

As your hold on the world gradually strengthens (whether you like it or not), you start to notice others' efforts at raising your weak spirits. You appreciate it, even if the room doesn't stop feeling any less empty.

You notice Mercy bringing you breakfast every morning, making sure you eat it and recruiting others to bring more meals to you as the day goes on.

You notice the scheduled and timed out visits of Pharah, the impromptu visits of Winston.

You don't stop Mei when she uncovers the clocks in your room. You let them glare at you.

You appreciate the eventual presence of Zenyatta and Genji (who must've made quite the trip to get here - they're based in Asia now, you're pretty sure), the occasional shy visits from Bastion and Anakh, the calls from friends who have moved far from this base by now.

You appreciate the fact that there's always someone to hold you when you cry. When your eyes are too dry to cry any more.

You appreciate McCree eventually dragging you out to the training area for mindless shooting practice. You follow along his steps,your pace slow and sluggish.

You don't run anymore. There's no reason to. There's nowhere for you to go.

You appreciate that Hanzo routinely brings you tea, politely asking whether he can stay for a while despite knowing full well that he's welcome here. You question whether someone's been making him do this and you catch yourself laughing at the expression on his face. His odd embarrassment confirms he's been doing this on his own accord.

The embarrassment gives way to a small smile when you laugh. There's a hint of sadness in the smile.

"I know what loss feels like." he explains when you question his motivations.

"I think my situation is a tad different from yours," you say. It's not as if he'll have literally forever to deal with loss, after all.

You appreciate all of their efforts. But as much as their visits lift your spirits, the constant reminder that you'll eventually have to deal with losing all of them brings you right back down.

"We need Tracer back," Winston quietly pleads you one day. "We need your help in our fight."

"What's the point of fighting, if I'll just lose you all in the end either way?"

"We may not be around forever, but Overwatch will be, Tracer." he says. "You promised me, remember?"

You do remember. You wonder how long it'll take you to forget.

"The world still needs changing," he says. "Talon's still out there."

"I don't want to fight for revenge," you say.

"Then fight for hope."

You don't have any hope left.

Then you see the ape's eyes, brimming with light and hope, and perhaps you can muster up some strength after all. You promised him.

You get up and you run.

You run through missions, through base, through the world. Time has long sped off without you, but you don't care.

You look over to Winston moving along with you, and you run.

\--------

If you were asked whether things normalize or change irreversibly from that point on, you honestly couldn't give a straight answer.

On one hand, you become your cheery self again, you think. You try. You let everyone lift you up, if just to make sure they have someone to help them when they're down.

On the other hand, the amount of changes that Overwatch itself goes through hits you once in a while. With the spread of Overwatch activity as time goes on, many have moved from the base to pursue various aspirations , be it watching over new branch bases or something else.

Agents come and go and as you quickly memorise details of new recruits, you start fearing you'll forget things about older agents. You start fearing they'll leave you.

They will, eventually. Everyone will.

You're surrounded by people, day in and day out, and yet more often than not, you catch yourself feeling alone.

You brush these thoughts off, distracting yourself with action. You aren't one to give into negativity, after all!

Though many things change, training always stays the same. You run about, you shoot things, you catch the occasional newbie for a spar if you can. It's those moments, as you try to work around the pace of a new teammate, that you feel the lightest on your feet.

You smile when you see McCree join you in target practice more often than not, heckling both your shooting and your gun twirling skills.

"You know, love, even if your face is getting worse as you get older, your aim sure isn't." you tell him, then use his moment of surprise to nab his hat and speed off.

You laugh as you run through the halls of the base, hat on your head and cowboy on your heels, and you feel happy.

You cling to the optimism as you run through the streets of cities around the world, as you fight off enemies, as you ignore the sting of your wounds.

You're doing exactly that one day - running through a nice old city, ignoring the sight of the trail of blood you're leaving as you attempt to outrun the insistent Talon member on your tail. He's outgunned you, you admit. The insane amount of stairs in this particular town, is not doing any favours to your wounded legs, but you run along either way. The town seems to pride itself on its archaic decor - and if the ridiculous amount of stone steps, sharp metal fences, overgrown buildings and creaky wooden doors is the cause of happiness for these people, then who are you to blame them?

You make sure to keep a confident smile on your face as you glance behind you to check where the pursuing Talon guy is. You laugh when you realise the stairs aren't doing him many favours either. Guess that's just about the only thing the two of you can agree on.

You feel your hip knock into something for a second, and you turn around only to be faced with the acute lack of ground. You realise a moment too late that that had been the railing, and you've done a stellar job of tumbling right over it. You haven't got a recall on hand, either.

Your feet touch the ground, but your back never does.

It takes a moment for the intense sense of pain to travel through your body, and another moment for you to look around and discover the reason for it.

You hear the creak of the metal fence beneath your back, you see the sharp end of a fence post sticking out of your abdomen and you realise there's no way you're getting out of this one.

Your body's burning in pain, and yet you still feel optimistic.

You guess you had to die at some point, anyway - there's only so much of forever a person can handle. And if you had to choose, dying before having time rip your friends from you one by one is not that bad.

It's a dumb death. Winston will be upset, surely.

You wonder whether you'll get to see Amélie soon. You imagine her mocking the idiocy of your death, and you can't wait.

You ignore the fear of death, the regret, the negativity within you, using all the strength you can muster to keep up a smile.

As your body goes numb and your sight grows dark, you feel peaceful and happy.

And then immediately confused as you feel the distinct temporal dizziness of a recall carry you away.

You open your eyes, take one glance at the railing you definitely remember flipping over, and then everything goes black.

\--------

You aren't sure how long the complete darkness lasts, until the sound of hushed voices makes you instinctively crack open an eye.

Once you get over the initial stab of brightness, you manage to make out what you assume to be a wall in the distance in front of you. There's a clock on it. There always is.

You know that clock. It's one of the clocks on the wall of the base's medical ward.

You never liked this clock. You aren't sure whether it's due to the medical ward being associated with bad memories or the comparatively loud ticking of the clock itself, but you never liked it. This clock always seemed particularly smug to you, what with its ticking, loud and proud, in a place of silence and thought such as this.

If that's the sight that greets you straight after death, you assume you've gone to hell, then.

It's only when you take a moment to listen to the taunting tick-tock of the smug clock that you remember the original reason you woke up. The murmur of softened voices is barely any louder than the clock, but you don't need much volume to recognize Winston's voice.

Now you're confused. You turn your head to your left once you've managed to deduce where the sound is coming from. Sure enough, Winston is there, talking to someone you can't quite see over the wide frame of your gorilla friend.

"Well, surely you don't belong in hell, love." you say, confused. Winston, Mercy and Anakh suddenly look back at you, expressions nearly as surprised as yours.

"You're not in hell, Lena." Mercy says. "We brought you back to base."

The unsaid implication of 'you're alive' hits you a second later, and you instinctively look down at your abdomen. No fence post. No wound.

"But... The fence... I remember..." you look down at your hands, your legs. The wounds are minimal. The blue glow of your chronal accelerator suddenly strikes you as you work through the memory again. "The... the recall?"

The look of relief on Winston's face gets more uncertain by the second as you look to him for an explanation. He's the one that made the damn time lamp, after all.

"It's an emergency fail-safe." he finally says. "On basic terms, it's set to use a reserved amount of power for a final recall. A big one, if necessary..."

The tick-tock of the smug clock echoes through your mind louder than your thoughts can handle. You realise you couldn't escape the ticking even if you wanted - you're stuck here now.

You can't die.

"It's... Anakh thought it up, and we had to implement it, it's for times like... like these." Winston says, voice uneasy. You assume it's due to the shock on your face.

"You had to?" you repeat.

You don't think anyone in this room ever expected you to be upset about being alive, including you. You may be fine with being forced back to life now, but you think forward to the accelerator keeping you here a decade, a hundred years, a millennia later, and you don't feel so alive.

Your eyes feel wet. You try your best not to focus on that.

"We didn't want you to die, Tracer," Winston explains.

"I don't want you to die either, but I can't help living to see that now, can I?"

You can't help but feel hurt at the thought that Winston essentially locked you into a sure fate of being absolutely alone someday.

You feel trapped. You feel trapped in this room, with the worried eyes of your friends and the smug ticking of the clock. Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Before anyone's managed to formulate a reply to you, you suddenly spring up and bolt for the window. You're surprisingly agile for someone who just got out of what was supposed to be your deathbed.

You navigate the outer wall of the base somewhat gracefully - you're not hurt, but you're a little wobbly, and your sight is not exactly on point. If it were, you might have even noticed the amount of confused hospitalized agents watching your little feat of acrobatics through the windows. Or the dark figure looming on the rooftop of the medical ward, right within earshot of the window you just launched yourself out of.

You really aren't entirely observant at the moment though. Or entirely coordinated, you realise as a sudden increase of the wobbliness knocks you off your balance. Your senses get clouded, and you realise a moment too late that you've lost your grip on the building.

It's fine if you fall. You'll just get recalled back into the little room and have worried eyes and loud ticking surround you once more.

As your senses get completely shrouded in mist, you vaguely feel someone catching you in their arms. You let out a pathetic little huff of laughter.

"Are you here to carry me off to hell, then?" you say.

"You wish." is the response you get, and then everything's gone again.

When you wake up in the same room, the same smug clock staring you in the face, you realise you do wish.

\--------

You get back on you feet quickly. You always do.

Your feet aren't sure where to take you anymore, though.

You go about your life in base as dutifully as you can. You run about, wake people up, bring their spirits up if you need to.

You try your best to go back to normalcy, but no matter what, things don't feel quite the same anymore.

You feel locked by the routine you loved. The routine you still love. At least you'd like to still love it, you really would. The halls of the base seem too narrow and tight to skip through like you used to.

You try not to avoid Winston. You really do. You know he did nothing wrong. He's too good to do anything wrong.

But the odd stab of betrayal that goes through you when you walk up to the door to his lab ends up making your turn around every time.

"I don't understand," Anakh tells you once, genuine confusion on their face. "I would be overjoyed if eternal life had been given to me..."

"Are you sure, love?" you ask, voice just as wistful as theirs. "Could you imagine watching everyone you love die? Your friends, family, everyone?"

"I believe I have lived through that once," they say. You make a point to keep your memory of the end of Vishkar alive in your mind for them, lest anyone forget what they experienced.

"Could you imagine doing it again, then? And again? And so on, so forth." you say, then feel a little guilty after seeing the look on their face. You may be upset, yes, but hurting Anakh is never a goal of yours. You lift people up, not bring them down.

You don't mind if they don't understand your problems - you really couldn't expect anyone to. You're alone in dealing with this one. But you'll make sure noone else has to face their problems alone as long as you're around.

And that's looking to be a long time.

"Hey, it's alright, love, really." you say, putting an arm on one of their shoulders. "I can handle it - it's not like I haven't been expecting this all along. The fail-safe doesn't change that much. It just means you can be sure I'll always be here to help out."

You flash them a hearty grin, then grin even more when a shy smile grows on their face. This is what you're here for, after all.

And so, you continue being there. You continue being there and you do your best to quiet the voice in your head that continues questioning whether you should.

Not one to harm even the unpleasant cacophonies in your head, you give the little voice some breathing room when you go to visit Amélie's grave. The silence in the cemetery makes it great for thinking, and only Amélie can judge you if a couple tears roll down your cheeks.

She can judge you all she wants. She always had free reign to do so.

You wonder what it would be like to be buried next to her. Uncomfortable, you assume, but perhaps you at least wouldn't have to be alone.

You aren't alone now, true. But you will be, eventually.

You wonder how long gravestones last if well cared for. You expect you'll need the moral support for ages to come. And what better to provide support for you than a seemingly ageless slab of stone?

You snort. She would have made a snarky comment about that, surely.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of someone appreaching. You spare an entire glance at Reaper before turning back to the grave.

"If you're here to give me the whole 'I know that it feels like' speech, thanks, that's real swell of you, but you should go." You say, eyes firmly locked on the grave before you. "I'm not sure anyone feels what it's like, knowing you'll outlive everyone you care about over and over."

"It's a little presumptuous to think you're the only eternal being walking around, you know."

You furrow your brow. That's not the response you were expecting at all.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you're here to make a big deal of temporal shenanigans, but eternal life-death isn't exactly peachy, either." he says. You turn around to face him, waiting for him to go on. "I guess it's to be expected that your perpetual light has to be contrasted with some sort of soul-numbing darkness."

"You're immortal," you nearly gasp out.

"As long as there are souls to reap."

You never thought Reaper's presence would bring you comfort, but here you are.

You aren't alone.

You hear him grumble out a 'goddamnit' when you move in for a hug.

"Oh, shush, you'll have all eternity to avoid any sort of affection, but I need a hug right now." you say.

"I know." Reaper responds, begrudgingly putting an arm around you. "You'll owe me for this one though. I'm keeping tabs."

"I'll write you into my will." you joke back at him. It's muffled, but you're pretty sure you recognize his laugh.

He doesn't push you off at any moment, as if he truly understands. You shortly wonder if anyone was there to provide hugs when he went through his eternal life-death crisis before you remember that no, noone was there.

"You're doing a great job of wasting eternity by sitting around that dusty old base." Reaper says.

"You're much older and dustier than the base, love." You instinctively jump to protect the building. You then remember the way the halls have been closing in on you recently, and you find yourself wondering whether he has a point. You never thought you'd see the day. "But if you're offering to take me along on one of your little mystery travels, I'll gladly take a tour."

"Hell no." he responds, but doesn't try to escape you when you eventually do decide to tail him on one of his absences.

\--------

You're not sure where you expected following Reaper would take you, but the Nepalese mountains were definitely not your first guess.

You take in the landscape as you get higher and higher on a mountain trail. It's a bit high up and the cold is a tad biting. Somehow, this makes you feel acutely alive.

"This is honestly the exact opposite of where I thought you went on your little trips, love." you tell Reaper, who seems to be just as affected by the altitude and the cold as he is by anything else. "I expected a deep, dark bottomless pit or something. Somewhere spooky and unpleasant."

"This isn't exactly the coziest place on earth, either." he responds. "You look like frostbite's right on your tail already."

"I'm warmer than I look, I assure you."

"That's still lukewarm at best."

"Don't you start lecturing me on proper winter-wear now! Not everyone can walk around in the same tattered black coat as proudly as you do, you know." you say, seeing where the conversation is headed. It's clearer than where you're headed, anyway.

Even as the cold bites continues biting your face, something about the scenery and the atmosphere brings a smile to your face. It is really pretty here. The height really doesn't bother you, either. Even as you make your way over a creaky old bridge that's entirely too high up to be safe.

"Do you think I'd recall myself back quick enough if I jumped off right now?" you laugh. The adrenaline of the height has you convince you'd make it.

"Do you think you could do it twice in a row? Cause I'm pushing you down again if you try that." Reaper responds, glancing back at you for a moment. "Let's go. You're wasting time."

"I was under the impression I had all the time in the world, love."

"If you want to spend eternity encased in ice, be my guest. But I'm moving on ahead."

If there had been a comparatively small smile on your face as you went up the trail, you're full on beaming by the time you start making your way downwards. Your feet are light as you instinctively ease into a run, navigating the winding trail as you go.

Reaper doesn't help you up when you eventually trip and fall, but he does wait for you to get back on your feet before continuing to walk. You suppose that's good enough.

You're slightly apprehensive about your immediate future when your destination turns out to be a nice wooden building, still a good ways above sea level and a while away from what looks to be a village in the distance. Reaper's made no indication of whose house this is, and it doesn't look to be his.

Your apprehension is promptly discarded when Zenyatta opens the door and greets you. You're a second or two slower than usual on your patented greeting hug maneuver, only due to the fact that you were honestly expecting a gun to be pointed at you when the door opened, not the face of a dear friend.

You knew that Genji, Zenyatta and their group of students were based somewhere in Asia, but you'd assumed they'd be closer to the central Asian base in India. This is an entirely new place for you.

Now you're excited. You flash a big grin towards Reaper as you're whisked off for a tour by Genji. You get a vague little wave in response.

He seemingly vanishes into thin air after that, only leaving behind a small note on the door of the guest room you're eventually given. "Stay here, I'll be back"

You do as asked, not that you really need much of an incentive to stay and watch the daily lives of friends you haven't seen in a while.

Despite knowing that Zenyatta's grown a following over the years, you weren't aware how large the number has grown to be. There's well over fifty students, both omnic and human, that regularly move about within the building.

"A lot of them live in the town further down the mountain," Genji tells you. "It's grown a lot over the past little while."

You try to match their routine as much as you can - you get up in the early morning with everyone, you follow along their activities for the most part. You make an honest attempt at meditation every morning before sneaking away for a little run. You get to know the students, you help out with the cleaning, you run some errands. You walk some of the students back to their homes in the village when evening comes, if just to keep them company.

You're mid ceremonial mop-race with Genji and a couple other aspiring speedsters when the fact that you feel happy to be alive hits you. Your little moment of realization costs you the race, but you can't find it in yourself to be upset. You keep smiling as you call shenanigans on the fact that Genji's knowledge of the building's layout is much better than yours.

One day you're taken to visit to the Shambali monastery, which is located somewhat nearby. You're glad to see the monastery seems to be full of life, too. You feel mighty warm for a mountain climate such as this.

"It's interesting that you haven't gone back to the Shambali, love." you tell Zenyatta on the way back.

"Yes, well. I will always hold the monastery in high regard, but I am afraid some of their teachings do not exactly match the lessons I aim to impart on our students."

You do remember him explaining the exact differences in philosophy that brought him to leaving the monastery. You're glad to see his view seems to resonate with people just as well.

"Do any of them know how to fight, then?" you ask.

"All of my students are taught the art at least to some degree. You can spar one of them if you would like to test that out for yourself." he responds. There's a distinct sense of pride in his voice and a distinct glint of excitement in your eyes.

There's a spring in your step.

"I sparred all of them. Every single one." you proudly tell Reaper when he eventually comes back, presumably marking the end of your stay here.

"Did you win at least once then?" he deadpans.

"Did I?" you raise an eyebrow. "Who do you think I am, love?"

"A loser, evidently." he says. "I've sparred you before. You aren't that magical."

You nearly sparr him off the mountain as you begin your trip elsewhere.

\--------

The central Asian base of Overwatch is a surprisingly good example of meticulously organized chaos.

Usually, a crowd of people swiftly moving in all different directions causes a great deal of confusion and possibly injuries, but you've been watching the main foyer for a good half-hour now and none of these agents seem to have come close to getting in each other's way yet.

The amount of different work that gets done in this base is pretty incredible. The amount of detailed documentation and organisation that happens every day is just as impressive.

You have no idea how Symmetra finds time to read all these reports while also focusing on her own work, but you suddenly understand why she hasn't had the time to visit in a while. You hold on slightly longer than usual once you get to greeting her with a hug. You've missed her.

The base's architecture screams Satya down to the last detail, but the upkeep and leadership seems to be a combined effort.

Symmetra and Kyra now lead a vast network of hard-light architects, sending them around the world for various projects. You've heard Winston mention calling them as cleanup after more destructive missions and you've met a couple of them before now, but you were not aware how much this has all grown since the last time you were here. Which was a long time ago, admittedly.

The more traditional Overwach operations (or the more destructive ones) are handed out and accounted for by the leadership of Zarya, who's been working at this base for nearly a decade, now that you think about it.

"They're attempting to rebuild Siberia," you remember her saying before she left the main base. "I must go make sure all is in order."

And all is in order indeed. Scarily complex, overwhelming order. You're not sure you could handle it all, but the more you speak to the agents around the place, the more you realise how happy they seem to be here.

You're happy to be here, too.

You've been staying there for a week or so when you get a screen shoved into your hands, the sudden sight of a worried ape greeting you. The familiar walls in the background remind you why you're here.

You look at them fondly now, though. They don't seem to be closing in on Winston, at the very least.

You've barely gotten through your 'hello's and 'how are you's before you realise the betrayal you'd felt a while ago has mostly been replaced by fondness again. You miss the ape - you can't remember the last time you went a good while without talking to him in some way.

But you also don't feel like coming back just yet. You realise there's a lot about Overwatch you know little about now. It's your duty to make sure it flourishes, after all. You promised him.

"I'll come back, love, rest assured," you tell him once his face gets visibly worried again. "I belong in that base, you know that. Take care of it for me until then, would you?" you grin. "Take care of yourself, too!"

You grin long after the call's ended, happily sitting about, lost in thought. You hear Reaper laugh at you from across the room.

"You're still his loyal little pet, even after all that." he says.

"Yeah, well. I don't remember the last time you went against his word, either. Rightly so, I'd say." you shrug. "Do you usually tell Winston where you go when you disappear from base?"

"It's surprising you don't know that, considering how much time you spend sticking your nose into his business." Reaper responds. You stare at him, waiting for him to actually answer the question. You're curious. "It's on a need-to-know basis. If he thinks he needs to know, he asks me. And if I know he needs to know, I tell him. I didn't give him a destination this time. Symmetra must have snitched."

You shrug. "We wouldn't have come here if we wanted to hide."

"There's no way to hide you, either way. You end up giving yourself away before anyone realises you're gone."

"Hey now, I've been working on my stealth skills, I swear! I can prove it."

Those last four words end up causing a base-wide hide-and-seek competition, but even that somehow doesn't slow the workflow of the it.

Symmetra isn't amused when she finds you attempting to blend in behind a potted plant near her office. She builds an impromptu cupboard for you to hide in instead.

\--------

You aren't sure why you only visit the main local monument on your way out of the city.

You're standing in front of the towering copper-cast likeness of Jack Morrison and you may be feeling a tad emotional.

He looks properly heroic - as expected, really. The ball of light he holds in his hand illuminates the streets around you. It was built for the ten year anniversary of the battle at the dome, you're pretty sure, but you haven't seen it in person until now.

It's been a long time.

You glance over to Reaper beside you, his mask hiding any sort of expression as always.

"What do you think of it, love?" you eventually ask, breaking the silence.

"It's nearly big enough to fit his ego." Reaper responds after a moment. "He'd like it."

You continue looking at the monument in silence for a while. The craftsmanship is good - his face is recognizable, you think. It's been a long while since you saw the real deal, and even back then his maskless visage was a pretty rare sight. You have so pitifully little to compare the statue with.

"Did they get his likeness right, love?" you ask, hoping a second opinion will make your memory seem at least a bit less foggy and distant.

You see Reaper's shoulders shrug slightly in your peripherals.

"Idealised. The scars are off." he says. His voice has a distant sound to it, too. "He's missing a whole lot of them. But I guess every sculptor would quit if they had to carve out every little scratch he managed to collect over the years."

He used to tell origin stories behind the scars when asked. You wish you remembered more of them - maybe you'd be able to tell how idealised the statue is. You wonder how many scars Reaper would know the origin of.

Memories of fights against Talon come to mind, and then you wonder how many of those scars Reaper was the origin of.

"Any of those from you?" you ask, against your better judgement.

Reaper stays quiet for a while, and you're beginning to think maybe you shouldn't have asked.

"He died with scratches all over his legs." he finally says. "If I could have held myself together more, I probably would have ripped them off before I let him walk into the dome."

The image from D.Va's stream comes to your mind, clear and detailed as ever. You remember the exact posture, the angle of the lens flare, the amount of dust around his legs as he walked onwards. You wonder how much of that dust was Reaper.

You extend your hands towards the statue. You've still got hands. You'll still fight.

You see Reaper extend his hands the same way and you're sure the memory of Jack is not in danger of disappearing anytime soon.

\--------

The main South American Overwatch base is the epitome of the phrase 'work hard, play hard'.

You watch the recruits (many of which seem so young to you now) run about, working away on missions at an effective pace, only to go straight to partying once they return.

"Do you ever sleep here?" you ask a passing agent.

"We'll sleep when we're dead, miss!" the guy responds, giving you a little salute before turning around and running off.

You hear Reaper laugh beside you. "I used to say that, too. Didn't work out that well for me."

"You know, I'm pretty sure you'd get more sleep if you spent less time being a drama queen about it, love."

"I exist to cause conflict." he responds and you snort. That's one for the quote book, right there.

"I guess I exist to settle it, then." you shrug.

But as far as settling conflict goes, the agents here seem to be doing a mighty fine job of it. Their workload is pretty heavy from what you've seen, but most of them seem reluctant to lessen it.

"We want to make sure our home is at peace, and if that means working hard, we'll work." a petite agent tells you when you ask her about it. "Besides, I've wanted to work with Overwatch since I was a little girl, so I'm excited to take part in it all."

Her excitement brings a sense of pride to your heart and you can't help the wide grin on your face. She mirrors your grin before continuing.

"You were a real inspiration to me growing up, Tracer." she says. "I remember seeing you on TV and such when I was small. Well, smaller than I am now."

You're sightly caught off guard by that. You remember the girl's age and realise she must have been tiny back when the dome battle happened. You knew you were making an effect on people, but you didn't expect it to come back to you quite like this.

Despite her small stature, she looks like the biggest hero in your eyes, her determination to work burning nearly as bright as your accelerator. She reminds you of what you've been fighting for all these years, and you can't help but think back to her long after your conversation ends.

You inspired her. And now she's inspiring you. Oh, how the tables turn.

Through questioning, observing and other miscellaneous means you learn the way the girl works. She's a berserker of sorts, apparently. Her main strategy involves speeding right into danger.

You can sort of see how you inspired her then.

"She's a handful, that one." D.Va says when you ask her about the girl. "I swear, you always have to have like three healers around her, just in case. Effective? Hell yes. Irresponsible? Also yes."

You laugh a little at that. "I remember you being described with those same exact words, a long while ago."

Over the years, D.Va's changed a lot in some ways, and not at all in others. You watch her command the base by day, a sense of strength and authority following her throughout. She's grown into an exceptional leader and strategist, and the love and respect her recruits have for her makes you smile.

But in other ways, this D.Va's the same girl you met in Korea a long time ago - she's still got the sass and the excitement she's always had. She still streams, still spends most of her nights gaming. The nights that aren't taken up by gaming are spent at the nightly parties at the base, dancing away to music, courtesy of her second-in-command.

Her second-in-command - Lúcio - seems to be just as revered here. He leads the medical ward here, apparently, along with a couple other aspects of the operation - such as the entertainment, evidently.

"I may not be as good as Angela at the whole medical thing," he says. "but I've been working on it for a while now. Gotta help out as much as I can, you know?"

And he does help out. You're dancing among the crowd at one of the usual late-night parties, and you find yourself smiling at the realization that this is part of of his healing program, in a way. You watch the music soothe the tired recruits, willing away their injuries and doubts into thin air.

Partying isn't the only thing you do during your stay in this base, however. D.Va very quickly directs you into assignment after assignment and you're back in the fray before you know it.

"You might as well make yourselves useful while you're here." she tells you and Reaper. "Freeloading is okay, but I also think a lot of my agents could learn something from you. Hopefully."

"Look at you, love, all responsible." you say fondly.

"I've always been responsible! It just took a while for others to see it."

"It really did. I remember the way Jack used to moralize to you about it all the time." you say, and only then do you really think about it. "Come to think of it, you remind me a lot of him now."

Hana looks a little taken aback by that, but there's unmistakable stars in her eyes.

"Thanks," she says, a little meek. "I kinda wish he were here to see this, though. His eyes would pop out of his head if he heard I'm leading a whole base now, probably." she laughs.

"Not really." Reaper speaks up, having been quiet the entire time until now. "He always saw potential in you. You leading a base was probably part of his plan at some point."

Hana's face lights up. And then Reaper continues speaking.

"At least the part of his plan that didn't involve exploding in a radioactive death-dome."

And there it goes - the bitterness(TM) that follows nearly every nice thing Reaper manages to say. God forbid he moves out of his depressing comfort zone to say something nice or sentimental for once.

"What edgelord here meant to say is that Jack would be proud of you, love." you say. "You're doing a great job."

You realise exactly how good of a job she's doing once you see these recruits in action. They're all over the place, skill wise - they've got a feisty acrobat, an omnic who commands mechanic wolves, a whole band of music-based fighters, and so on. There's a couple hard light users here, most notably, a tank who specialises in hula hoop based shields (Slinky, you've heard others call them. A fitting name).

Symmetra sent that last one over, apparently having decided they'd be of better use here. Lúcio theorises she might not have known how to deal with their behaviour - Slinky is loud and a little loopy, no pun intended. They fit in here perfectly.

You see the comradery between all these misfit recruits grow step by step, both in battle and out.

You watch the mechanic wolves of that one omnic playfully jump back and forth through Slinky's hoops in the hall one day and you're reminded of the antics that used to go down back at your own home base.

These kids will achieve good things, you're sure of it.

You'll be around to help it happen, after all.

\--------

"Alright, love, I've learned you're fond of travelling all over the world, but what the hell did we come here for?" you ask Reaper as you catch up with him.

You're walking in what looks to be The Middle of Nowhere, Australia. You knew the Outback was vast and empty, but you didn't know the exact scale of it. It's been hours since you've seen anything at all of interest on the horizon, and you're beginning to go insane.

You had been apprehensive about coming here - you've heard all sorts of horror stories from the Junkers. Acid rains, aggressive locals, so on so forth. So far, you've encountered absolutely none of that.

You've encountered absolutely nothing at all.

"I'd think you were bringing me out here to kill me if we both didn't know that's a terrible idea." you go on bugging Reaper while he continues walking without a word.

"I'm all about terrible ideas." he grumbles. You shake your head and sigh, thankful that the mask you're wearing will keep you from breathing in a bunch of dust, at least.

"You know, love, at times like these I sort of wish it weren't your edgy nonsense that I had to put up with for all eternity." you say.

"Tough luck, kid."

You instinctively open your mouth to begin the 'not a kid' argument you've had many times by now, then close it again.

"You are aware that at some point the thirty-something year difference between us will be too marginal for you to act like my dad, aren't you?" you finally say.

"I wouldn't bet on you wising up anytime within the next century."

"There isn't really a lot a lot to learn here in the middle of nowhere."

"You could learn to shut up once in a while."

"We both know that's not happening, love." you say, smiling underneath your mask.

"You're right." he grumbles, and you smile even wider. "Even if you could die, your corpse would find a way to sit up and babble at me at the funeral."

"You'd come to my funeral? How sweet of you!" you snark. "I can't remember ever really seeing you at a funeral, surprisingly. Not even Jack's, I don't think."

He makes a nondescript grunt noise before speaking. "I was there. I was at all of them, I just didn't care to be seen."

"Ah, of course. God forbid your spooky soul misses an opportunity to brood in the shadows."

The banter does help the otherwise dull trip. You gradually begin completely ignoring the surrounding landscape, if just to keep it from driving you out of your mind.

You get so good at ignoring the landscape that you completely miss your destination until Reaper's sudden interruption of whatever you were saying breaks you out of your trance.

"We're here." he says, and only then do you look around. There are actually things to look at now - there's a little water hole and a bunch of greenery around it. A surprising amount of greenery, for a place like this. Your steps grow light and airy as you look around, happy to be surrounded by flora or the first time in forever.

Your steps slow again once you take a closer look and realise something is off. The flora is non-standard, to say the least. There are rows upon rows of flowers that seem to be stuck together, leaves of odd colours and sizes. You notice plants that definitely should not be able to grow in a place like this or in the configurations they seem to have formed.

You feel a little uneasy. You know mutated plants are a thing, but this all seems to be a bit much.

You aren't sure what to think when you notice the little makeshift hut among the plants. Reaper doesn't say anything as he walks towards the hut, so you're left with little idea of what to expect.

Then Chizuru walks out from behind the hut and this entire trip is suddenly worth it.

She looks just as surprised to see you as you are to see her. Her eyes are wide in surprise as you run up to give her a hug.

Your hold on her is tight. You haven't seen her in a while, and you sure weren't expecting to see her here of all places.

She'd been staying with the Junkers right until Roadhog succumbed to illness more than half a year ago. It had been a bad time for everyone, but Chizuru took it the hardest - you hadn't seen her for literal weeks before you heard that she'd apparently gone on a little trip to cleanse her mind. This is absolutely not where you expected to find her, however.

"Tracer? What are you doing here?" she questions as you're still holding onto her.

"Visiting you, apparently!" you reply. "Really though, I've just been trailing Reaper around. I had no idea you were here, love!"

"You weren't really... supposed to know?" she says, confused expression still in place as she turns to Reaper. "How did you find me?"

"I have my sources." he replies.

She furrows her brow at that. You speak up again before she says anything.

"What are you doing all the way out here anyway? It's a mighty odd place to be."

Cheese looks to be in though for a moment before speaking.

"I guess I can show you around then." she says, before beginning to walk, motioning you to follow. "I've been working - this is my little garden right here."

"Well, it's... It's a bit of an odd one, isn't it?" you ask, the weird plants not sitting quite right in your eyes.

"Ah, well, I guess it is noticeable then. It's my garden of mutations." she explains. " The plant life here is fascinating. I've managed to get all sorts of things done in a habitat like this, not just tending to the existing plants. I've grown all sorts of specific mutations, all kinds of interesting plants. The effect these have on medicinal extracts is incredible!"

She speaks with excitement in her voice. Somehow, you aren't quite as excited. You remember Roadhog telling you about the effects of radiation-based mutation. And even if your memory is vague, whether due to how laconic Roadhog's explanations tended to be or not, you remember it being an unpleasant subject.

"I've adapted some of my own plants to this habitat and I've discovered all sorts of components from them!"

You don't quite match her jovial tone.

"Your dad wouldn't approve of you being here, love."

Her expression drops down a notch in excitement.

"My dad is insane. So was the other one." she says curtly. Normally, you'd be glad to hear her speak this much, but not right now. This place isn't good for her mind, evidently.

"Not insane enough to mess with radiation like this." you say.

"But it's incredible, Tracer!" Cheese says, excited again. "I've been able to make all sorts of mixtures out of these. I've made one that restores hair cells, one that heals skin wounds, and I've made one that's managed to brings some plants back sfter they've wilted. If I continue on this path, I--"

"No," you interrupt, suddenly aware of exactly how bad this place is for her. "Don't mess with reanimation, love. Noone will benefit from that."

"Are you kidding? Think of the--"

"It won't bring him back." Reaper suddenly says, making the real issue acutely obvious.

Chizuru pauses for a moment, the excitement in her voice disappearing with a sigh.

"They told me radiation's what brought him down so early." she says, voice slower now. "Then I will make radiation bring him back."

"It won't." Reaper responds. "Whatever it creates won't be him anymore."

"I can't not try...!"

"You have to stop." Reaper's voice stays calm and emotionless in contrast to Chizuru's growingly shaky one. "He wouldn't want to be brought back. Noone would. It's a selfish idea."

You seem to have lost your ability to speak, the conversation a bit much for you. Chizuru's shaking now. You hope you aren't.

"What do you know?!" she springs up. "How would you know noone wants to be brought back? That they wouldn't be the same?"

"I know because I'm living it right now."

Reaper turns around after that, directing a vague hand motion at you to follow him. "We're setting up camp." he explains when you do follow.

You feel a little lost in thought as you almost mechanically help Reaper set up a tent next to the hut. The argument replays in your mind and you pay attention to how knowing and rehearsed Reaper's words were.

"You're quiet." he suddenly says.

"I thought that was what you wanted?"

"Not like this." he says. It takes you a moment to realise that this is Reaper-speak for 'what's wrong?'.

"You've had that conversation before." you say after a moment.

"Many times."

You're struggling to come to terms with that. He's been knowingly immortal barely any longer than you.

"I'll probably have to have that conversation at some point," you think aloud.

"Many times." he repeats. There's a pause before he speaks again. "That's what we're here for now."

You think on that for a while in uncharacteristic silence. A long while, apparently. It's getting dark by the time Reaper breaks the silence again, even if not by speaking to you directly.

You listen to him curse under his breath as he fumbles with something in his hands, pacing right outside the tent.

"What's wrong, love?" you ask him.

"You know, the worst thing about this place is the reception." he says. You assume he's messing with a communicator of sorts, then.

"Perhaps the radioactivity's messing with it? I'm not sure but--" you manage to say before he silences you with a finger to your lip.

You guess he got it working, then.

"Target located." he says. "Will bring her back tomorrow."

"Great job. Notify me when you arrive." responds a voice through the device. You know that voice.

That's undoubtedly Winston's voice.

Your mind is going a million miles per second as pieces come together. You stay quiet until Reaper turns the device off and pockets it.

"You sneaky devil." you finally say, shaking your head. "You know, if you'd told me we've been on a search mission this whole time, I could have helped out."

"Not sure how much good that would have done." he responds, walking back to the tent.

"I can't believe it." A laugh escapes you. "And you called me Winston's guard dog that one time! Here you are, travelling the bloody world for him. I cannot believe..."

You go on and on, laughing as you rant in disbelief. Reaper eventually gets sick of your voice and tells you to be quiet and sleep. And you do stay quiet. You stay quiet for a gracious 5 minute period.

"It's quite a confident move, promising Winston to bring Cheese back tomorrow. You're sure you can convince her that quick?"

He lets out an aggravated sigh before giving in and responding.

"I didn't promise I'd convince her, I just said I'd bring her back."

"Ooh, are we playing 'good cop, bad cop' then?" you giggle.

"Whatever works." he grumbles, following it up with another command for you to sleep.

You do sleep. You've got one hell of a job to do tomorrow.

It doesn't take quite as much time and effort as you'd expected, but dragging Chizuru out of the Outback is one hell of a job indeed. Explosives are involved, but you'd expected that much from someone who was raised by Junkrat.

You feel a sense of accomplishment well up inside you as you walk Chizuru back into your home base. You take a deep breath of the base's air and you smile.

It's nice to be home.

You bring Chizuru to the lab and give Winston a big hug, feeling warm and happy to be here again. To be happy here again.

By the time you realise you haven't thanked Reaper for taking you along, he's gone off somewhere.

That's alright, you think. You'll have literal eternity to bug him.

\--------

It's six a.m.

The sunlight is soft, but it still manages to blear through the old curtains of your room.

It's a good day to watch the world change as any!

You automatically move out of bed and go through your morning routine as you have for years, not without pausing to take a look at yourself in the mirror.

Still the same as ever. The same brown hair sticking up in uneven strands as yesterday. The same freckles you saw weeks before. The same brown eyes as two decades, three decades ago.

You flash yourself a big ol' smile.

You pause before exciting your room (your small, cluttered, yet still often times empty room), looking up at nowhere in particular. You breathe in, smile widely and yell out the phrase you start nearly every morning with.

"Good morning, Athena!"

Many things about this base have changed but it still has the same warmth as it used to - the same coziness. You attribute this to Athena's infallible presence.

"Good morning, Tracer."

You don't know how many years it's been. You've lost count. But even as the world around you changes, and as you move all around it, you somehow always end up back here, exchanging greetings with Athena before you go on to wake the rest of the base.

You don't mind not counting the years. Athena would count for you, if you asked.

You speed through the hallways, yelling out the most cheerful greetings you can muster. You're responsible for starting everyone's day with happiness, after all.

You make the occasional pit-stop in order to encourage those who like to join you on your morning run. You also have to pause to wake notorious over-sleepers.

Even with Torbjörn having long retired by now ("Machines know machines better than I do now. Guess I can go rest." he'd said.), his ritual of throwing something at your head as you wake him seems to have caught on with some of the younger sleepyheads. You guess some things never change.

Speaking of things that do change, you move on to Winston's lab to learn just that.

You bring a plate of sandwiches for Winston, Anakh, aspiring apprentice scientists and the general nerd population that hangs out here now. There's quite a crowd.

"Well, I sure hope most of you have gotten a proper amount of sleep tonight, otherwise me coming here to wake you would just seem silly, wouldn't it?" You pass around sandwiches, pausing to give the ones who obviously haven't slept a little flick to the forehead.

"Don't you moralize us too, Tracer," one of them whines. "we get enough of that from Angela."

"Well it's not enough at all then, is it? I'm pretty sure I haven't seen you leave this room for the past three days, love." you give them an extra flick to the nose, hoping to wake them up somewhat. "I'm this close to hauling you off and tucking you in like a proper grandmother, you know."

"You don't quite look the part of a proper grandmother." they laugh.

"Perhaps not, but I'm nearly old enough to be your great-grandmother now, love." you stick out your tongue at them. "You'd best respect your elders."

Speaking of respected elders, you hand your last sandwich to Winston, who certainly looks the part better than you do. His silvery hair goes surprisingly well with the lighting here at the lab, giving an extra edge to the already strong presence he commands.

You aren't sure the silver goes quite as well with the blue glare of your chronal accelerator, but that's a different story.

You put the plate down in front of him and pull up a chair to sit beside him. A few decades ago, you might have found him sleeping on this same chair. A couple years ago you might have pulled it out for him to sit on. Both of those aren't possible now, as Winston's been using an assortment of fancy wheelchairs to maneuver around for a long while.

His eyes are bright as ever - no amount of wrinkles could cover their glow. You smile as you ask him to tell you what's happening around the world today. You ask about happenings at this base, at other bases, at places outside Overwatch's reach.

You learn about Symmetra and Mei's progress of reworking the Outback - they've had a whole entourage of people working on it for a while now, after restoring Siberia went well a couple years ago.

"Oh, we're actually sending someone interesting there today." Winston suddenly interrupts his own train of thought. "Athena, has he arrived yet?"

"He is currently barreling through the base. Directions have been given out. He will be here in approximately t = 45 seconds, given no more directions have to be provided."

It takes a little less than the estimated time for you to have an idea who it is, as the distinct sound of explosives rings through the halls. You see a few of the agents in the lab look at each other in bewilderment. You smile.

"Even now, you can't help but cover the base in soot, can you, love?" you tell Junkrat when he finally appears through the door. He laughs as you move to give him a hug, not at all discouraged by the thick layer of gunpowder on him. He's fairly presentable, as far as Junkrat goes.

"Well someone's got to mess it up, otherwise you wont have a reason to run around cleaning, mate." he responds.

You can't find it in you to disagree - you were planning to clean up today, anyway. An extra layer of soot is just an extra challenge.

It's been a while since you've seen Junkrat here at base, and you've honestly come to miss the commotion. The amount of confused and mildly terrified faces out in the hall tells you it may be even longer than you think since his last visit.

"But look at you, taking trips and stuff!" you exclaim, looking him over. Age has caught up to him, too. "I'm slightly surprised you haven't exploded yet, old man."

"Can't. I have a little girl to watch over, mate!" he explains. "Hog told me to."

You smile. Said little girl has grown into a formidable agent by now. You're pretty sure she's currently working against the Shimada influence in Asia with D.Va's main stealth team. You haven't had the chance to help out in that area - despite how much shit Reaper constantly gives you for it, you still aren't one for stealth. They're making progress though, from what Winston's told you.

Junkrat seems proud, too.

You manage to avoid explosions even as you spend a good bit of your day hanging around him, all the way to the point where he's flown off to the Outback with an entourage of agents (a couple of whom you distinctly remember having originated from the Outback themselves).

Only then do you go on to your actual planned activity for the day - the biweekly base-wide mop race can only be put off for so long. And with a soot-covered base, it's looking to be quite the race.

The races have grown less challenging over the years, perhaps due to how many of them you have now gone through, but you still find yourself laughing as you run, aspiring young speedsters on your tail, all equipped with mops. Some of them are getting quite good at this, you note.

Winston can have his lab rats - these here are your apprentices. Perhaps one day you'll round up some of the most promising ones to go face Genji, whose mopping skills still stand unparalleled.

You look around the newly cleaned base and you feel fulfilled. This base shall stand strong and clean as long as you're around, you think.

And that's looking to be a long time indeed.

\--------

You spot her silhouette on rooftops once in a while.

You know she's not really there. She hasn't been there for years now. You used to get incredibly upset over that. You still are, to a lesser degree.

But you still see her there occasionally, a split-second mirage gracing the skylines of cities that had been very different back when she was actually present.

You remember being angry, upset, outright distraught every time she appeared in your peripherals during the years following her death. No matter your attempts to move on, the memory of her haunted you like a ghost, bringing you a stab of illogical hope and then instantly following it up with dread when you look over only to realise noone's there.

You've grown accustomed to it over the years. Perhaps even slightly fond of having a reminder of her appear once in a while.

Not that you would have forgotten her otherwise. You visit her grave once in a while, when you feel like thinking. It's nice and quiet in the graveyard, sans for the sound of the foliage rustling in the wind. You bring a scarf or two to protect you from the wind - she taught you the importance of accessorizing, after all.

Sometimes when you close your eyes, the rustling of the graveyard trees sounds like the familiar click-clack of her knitting needles, patiently working away.

You'd tried to learn the basics of the craft, if just to be able to salvage the sweaters and scarves she made for you when they inevitably start fraying and breaking apart. You've got a basic understanding of it, but your creations are always rushed and flimsy - nothing close to the careful elegance of her craft.

Despite your failure to replicate her crafting greatness, you try to hone other skills you'd picked up due to her influence. Namely, the French language. You've become a fairly proficient speaker by now. Sometimes you catch yourself whispering sentence after sentence to the symbolic stone slab, as if attempting to impress her, even beyond the grave.

Though perhaps that's why you've become fond of seeing little visions of her as you run through the streets - you can't help but enjoy the idea of her watching over you. The idea of her being proud of you.

You were proud of her, after all. You always will be.

You see her silhouette on rooftops sometimes.

You grin, salute, then run along, the memory of a greeting bullet whizzing by giving you strength.

\--------

With the ever-expanding population of the base, it gets difficult to take note of any particular interactions between the others. You notice some things, sure - friendships, family ties, some drama. You hear the gossip. It all goes by a bit too quick for you to delve very deep into the matter.

Which is why you don't realise how grave some of the base-wide conflicts have grown within the younger crowd until it gets to a dangerous level. You'd written it off as minor arguments, honestly.

It gets a bit difficult to write it off as minor when you witness an agent blow up a good chunk of a corridor wall in anger.

You're slow to realise it, sure, but thankfully, you're quick to react. You aren't the only one, either - you hadn't even seen Pharah enter the corridor, but she's here, calming everyone down and walking the kiddos off to Mercy's.

She might have been expecting this, you realise. You also realise you might be the slowest on the uptake.

"You've always been good at not seeing conflict," Reaper laughs at you when you bring this up.

You put down your cup of tea and give him the face. The now patented 'you're being bitter again, Gabe' face. He ignores it. He seems a little smug.

"I bet you're enjoying all this fighting, anyway." you shrug. "Just like old times, eh? Here's to more needless explosions."

The way he puts down his cup of coffee, you assume you're the bitter one now.

"Oh, christ, I'm taking after you, aren't I?" You realise. "Nope, I'm cheering right back up, just you watch. I don't want to be an eternally moody mess."

"Noone does."

"Eh, cheer up, love. It's either that or perpetual ignorance, apparently." You take a sip of tea.

You make a mental note to be a little more observant from then on. It's easier said then done - you know that - but you're trying your best.

But you're sure even the most oblivious Tracer would have noticed the tension once it reached the training grounds.

You're watching Reinhardt go about coaching a group of agents through an exercise routine of some sort. It's not a rare sight - he stays here and coaches people nearly every day, since Mercy won't let him out on missions anymore (and Winston's gotten in enough trouble for letting him go anyway to do it anymore), but it's an enjoyable sight nonetheless.

You join in the exercise sometimes, when you feel confident in your strength. This usually ends with you realising Reinhardt's strength training is no joke. You'll stick to being fast, thank you.

Reinhardt hardly breaks a sweat. He looks still as strong and vibrant as ever, laughing along as he encourages his students.

"He's at least 110 years old now." Reaper tells you when you ask. He lets out a huff of laughter after a pause. "Smart move, asking me instead of him."

"You're full of knowledge, honestly." you shrug.

"That and bitterness, apparently."

You snort, then give him the patented look again.

"It's surprising the base hasn't collapsed just from the sheer black hole of bitterness your presence creates, love." you say, turning your sights back to the exercising group. "I guess that's because Reinhardt's here to hold it all from falling."

Reaper makes a noise of agreement. "At this point I'm convinced I'll die before he does."

You continue watching the group, giggling at how enthusiastic Reinhardt is. So are a good number of the students - his excitement is contagious, evidently.

In the corner of your eye you spot a few students who apparently aren't as enthusiastic. Their movements seem less and less coordinated as they focus on sneering at each other rather than the exercise. You spot a twinge of concern on Reinhardt's face and you let out a huff of anger. Those three need a stern talking to, if just for disrespecting Reinhardt like this.

One of them raises a hand, and you're preparing to blink yourself over there, but someone else beats you to the punch.

You watch their eyes widen as Reaper suddenly appears in the middle of the group. You let out a snort as you watch their faces pale, along with a good number of other students.

Reaper's kind of a cryptid to a large part of the younger agents. The amount of rumors about him being a literal ghost or demon of some sort amuse you to no end and you often can't find it in yourself to correct them. Some of them technically aren't wrong.

You can't hear exactly what Reaper is saying from your spot at the wall behind Reinhardt."You don't want to end up like me." is the only phrase you catch in full.

You do, however, hear the full blast of Reinhardt's voice when he swoops into the conversation.

"Ah, but you do want to end up as hard-working as our spooky friend here!" he says. "Do not belittle yourself, my friend! These kids can learn a lot from you!"

Reinhardt tries his best to pull Reaper into a hug. Reaper tries his best to dodge.

Only one of them succeeds.

You can't help but laugh at Reaper as he sulks back to his spot next to you, sufficiently hugged-out.

"Nice of you to break the fight up, love." You've noticed all the older agents are prone to peacekeeping, probably due to knowing where it all leads, but Reaper's quick reaction to it was honestly impressive. "I thought you thrive on conflict."

You say it as more of a joke than anything - you're aware he knows just how far these conflicts can go.

He lets out a sigh before answering.

"Both times Overwatch fought among themselves ended with Jack dying and even I'm a little sick of it by now."

"You? Sick of death? Is your head on right?"

"No." You can hear the smile in his voice. "I swear, the day Overwatch fucks itself up for good, the particles in the dome will find a way to put Jack back together just to rip him apart all over again."

You smile along with him, but there's a hint of seriousness in your voice.

"Overwatch will stand as long as I live, love."

"I can wait that out."

You like to think he's grinning back at you beneath that mask.

You think that's a good ending to that conversation. Which is good because whatever you might have said is interrupted by a young voice from the bench beside you.

"Excuse me, but did you say you knew Jack Morrison, sir?" An agent is looking at Reaper, bright smile on his face. "It must have been nice, knowing a great leader like that."

You hold yourself from laughing and give Reaper the patented bitterness-control face before he can even say anything. This kid definitely wasn't even born back when the omnium battle happened.

Reaper grumbles something along the lines of "Jack Morrison was an asshole, kid. Pass it on.", but you aren't sure anyone besides you hears it due to a loud voice suddenly joining the conversation.

"Ah, you kids need a history lesson!" Reinhardt says, turning to look at you, then back to his class. "Our friend Gabriel here was the original leader of Overwatch many many years ago!..."

You snort, elbowing Reaper in the arm. "You're old." you whisper.

"Shut up." he grumbles back.

Before you know it, Reinhardt's muscle-building class has turned into 'History time with Uncle Wilhelm'. The students are sitting down now, just as attentive to Reinhardt as they had been when he was shouting instructions at them.

You and Gabriel listen along with them in silence. The mask doesn't tell you much, but you're pretty sure he's glad to be getting some recognition.

Surprised faces glance over at him sometimes, trying to be subtle. They seem to be just as skilled at that as you are.

Reinhardt remembers a surprising amount of Commander Reyes stories. There's even a good few here you haven't heard before.

You nudge Reaper with your elbow once in a while. "You did all that, love?" you grin.

"I'd forgotten a lot of it." he says, voice grumbly as always, but you can tell he's happy to be reliving some memories through Reinhardt's intrinsically positive attitude.

Then talk shifts to Gabe's relationship with Jack and you aren't sure he's as happy anymore. You giggle as he tries not to show embarrassment. Reinhardt has some interesting memories.

Even more confused looks get sent Reaper's way, even less subtly. Some of them look at you for confirmation.

You wiggle your eyebrows at them.

You aren't sure whether Reaper becomes less or more like a cryptid after that day. You listen to the kiddos theorize about him once in a while and you have to hold back your giggles.

"I looked it up and apparently he was a member of Talon at some point??"

"I heard he tried to steal Athena once."

"Something something infinite gun dimension."

You snort at some of the more ridiculous ones. "Why don't you just go ask him, loves?"

The looks on their faces remind you that yes, some people actually find his edgy crap to be threatening and you realise you're having a fun day.

("My favourite is the rumour where you tried to follow Jack into the dome but it rejected you cause you're too demonic," you tell Gabe once.

"My favourite is the one where I pushed him in." he responds, and you give him the face again.)

However, you do notice a lot more respect and admiration directed towards him now. You smile as you listen to him comment on the fighting skills of the occasional youngster brave enough to challenge him to a spar. Smart kids, those ones. It's a good learning experience.

You also notice how effective his presence is for stopping fights. You and the other old agents have been working to eradicate them down to the source, and it seems to be working.

Even when the old agents are gone, you'll be here, working.

The history of Overwatch lives on as long as you are here, after all. And you'd rather it didn't repeat itself too much.

That would be entirely too boring for your liking.

\--------

The years blur together as they go by, but one occasion stands out clear every time.

The anniversary beach party grows larger and larger every year, with more agents and more reasons to celebrate. It's grown into a fête that spans a couple days now.

You think about it when times get rough. When you wish you didn't exist, that time stopped right then and there, you cling to the thought of the beach party. You want to be there every year. You have to be there every year. You have to listen to Winston's speech.

There's something new every year, but some traditions stay, both large and small.

You spend a good bit of time on the dance floor, occasionally jumping up to make sure Lúcio sees the thumbs up you give him in regards to the music he carefully plans out each year.

The award ceremony is a blast every time. You love being reminded of what was achieved over the years, both in serious and comedic regard. You've personally collected a nice number of the 'fail of the year' awards, yourself.

(Not that any of them were nearly as hilarious and well-deserved as the year McCree won for 'Toaster Incident #3'. You're not sure anything could beat that, but they've got all eternity to try.)

You like the portion of the event that's always dedicated to celebrating Mercy and Pharah's wedding anniversary.

You also like seeing Pharah carry Mercy off into the sea every year, fancy dress and all.

And you like hearing Winston's speech.

He always looks proud and truly, really happy as he makes the speech. His eyes glow brighter than your chronal accelerator. Brighter than the moon.

You remember him being shy the fist few years he was made to do it. He's grown quite a lot more confident and excited about it over time. It's become a favourite moment of the year for him, too, you note.

He's grown so fond of it, that even when he's a little more than elderly, and even Angela's attempting to talk him out of doing it, he's determined to make the speech.

And you're determined to listen. You're determined to etch every word into your mind, for eternity and onwards. This year, especially.

This year is looking to be the last one.

Winston's been the undisputed leader of Overwatch for decades now. So, so many decades. And even though Angela and Fareeha have been doing most of the work for years now, noone's wanted to take the official title of leader from Winston.

He started all this, after all. He brought you all together. He made Overwatch what it is now.

And even as you watch him inch towards leaving you all, having lived more than twice the average lifetime of a gorilla (he's even made an indent on the statistics of that), and as a voice in your head screams about how you can't lose him too and how Overwatch won't be the same without him, you stay determined. You stay determined and smile.

You made a promise to him, long ago. You promised you'd keep working for Overwatch. For the bright future of the world.

Even as the ever-grayer head of his reminds you to start saying your goodbyes, you stay determined. You have purpose.

His eyes are bright as he speaks. As bright as they were last year and the year before that. As bright as they were ten, twenty years ago.

You keep your smile equally bright.

As the evening grows darker and darker, and the beach house grows quieter with more and more agents moving on to sleep, your heart beats loud and fast. And your accelerator glows bright.

At some point, after rolling about in bed for a good bit, you realise you just can't sleep.

You walk out of the room into the hall, smiling as you hear the chatter and music from the main room. The light from there seeps through the spaces under the doors of the hallway.

You spot a familiar figure wheeling about at the end of the hallway.

"Winston?" you ask softly, as not to wake anyone who might actually be getting rest. "Why are you up so late, love?"

"I'm up early, actually." he responds, making your grasp on time firmer than it was. You aren't sure whether you like that, but you are at peace with it by now. "I wanted to watch the sunrise."

You smile. "I'll wheel you out, love."

You push his wheelchair through the hall and outside, fully aware it's automated and doesn't actually require pushing of any sort. You do it anyway. You like it. You're pretty sure Winston enjoys being pushed around too, as long as you keep your speed nice and moderate (his definition of moderate, not yours).

You look up at the sky, still very much dark, as you push Winston through the sand and near the sea. The moon shines bright at you.

That there's your one regret. You never got to bring him home.

"We'll go to the moon for you, love." you say, still looking up. "We'll build a nice big base on it. So big you could see it from here."

"Thank you, Tracer." he smiles.

You pause for a moment to put a toe in the water before pushing the wheelchair into the sea. The waves feel smooth on your legs as you wade in, knee deep. He's always liked walking around in the waves.

'And then we'll take Athena there, if she wants. And then, when everyone on Earth has stopped fighting, we can move onto other planets, too." you go on as light begins to appear on the horizon. "Have you ever thought about a colony on Mars?"

"It's an ambitious idea," he says. His smile tells you he likes it.

"Well I'll make it happen, love." you nod. The sun is poking out over the horizon now. "I'll make the future of Overwatch bright. I'll make sure all these people live good lives. And then I'll make the future of Mars bright along the way."

The sun is bright as it rises. It isn't nearly as bright as your hopes for Overwatch.

"Thank you, Tracer. Thank you for everything."

You'll make the future of it so bright that he'll be able to see it from wherever he goes.

"I keep my promises, love." You watch the sun rise more than halfway over the horizon. "As long as I live, Overwatch will have a bright future."

The sky brightens around you, mirroring the colour that perpetually glows from your chest. The colour that will keep your promise going.

"You are Overwatch now, Tracer." he says.

"I am." you respond. "And I always will be."

Your feet sink in the sand as you stand there, taking in your surroundings. The waves whoosh softly, the water moving around you as your balance stays unaffected.

The sky is bright and blue, illuminated by the newly risen sun.

It's six a.m.

"It's a beautiful day." Winston says.

"Yes. As good as any to change the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my formatting went out the window the moment I transferred the fic here. I may go back and fix it if i'm ever up for rereading 100k words of my own babble.  
> Thank you for reading.


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